A War That Shouldn't Have Started
by Youngbountygirl
Summary: "It all started when I made that first shot, and now I started a war against Britain, my brother. I am just a kid, a farm boy in way over his head! I have no military, a few war veterans, and a longrifle in my hands! I've always been a part of Britain, but now I'm drifting away, and I'm scared... I'm scared of independence, of Britain never speaking to me again... of being alone."
1. Prologue: He Came Alone

**I wasn't sure whether to start this with The USA's Post War or this, which is supposed to be the American Revolutionary War. I know this wasn't on my list, but I didn't really have a full story idea. It was until after watching Liberty's Kids, I started thinking I should start with this. I might as well get going on this one, while I still can. **

**The reason I wanted to do a Revolutionary War fic, despite the bagillion (I know it's not a word) other fan fictions like this, is because they NEVER get it right, which is the similar reason for the post Civil War fan fiction I'm about to do. I'm hoping to get America's and England's character right in this. I know a lot about the American Revolution, so this should be pretty easy for me. I will do my research though... promise ;) **

**I want to thank my two beta readers Inari Kasugawa and Quiet Harmony-Chan for proofreading this. They will, in fact, be checking this entire story for historical accuracy. Review please!**

It was close to sundown at this time of evening. Everyone was rather eating a good hardy supper, or finishing up their work for the day. The evening was quiet with a slight breeze heard among the trees that somehow blew toward the beautiful white house with tall pillars, a bricked chimney on each side of the roof across from each other, a white fancy fence along the roof, and three entrances. The house seemed to be surrounded by short green grass at the front, and a few trees off to the side.

The brush of the wind began growing stronger when a young man on a horse swept across the landscape on its way to the huge house. The young man couldn't be older than 16, messy blond hair, bright blue eyes, and dressed in a white long-sleeved shirt, a pair of black trousers, stockings, boots, and a brown hat. He seemed to be out of breath as he harnessed his horse around a nearby tree on the right, tying it up good and tight.

At this point, an older man in a short white powdered wig opened the door, his eyes filled with surprise when he saw the face of the familiar young man. The older man wore a dark blue coat, white stockings, darker blue breeches, and black shoes. He slowly came upon the young man, noticing how troubled he seemed.

"America, what brings you here, old friend?" The older man asked.

America continued his panting, taking off his hat, and staring down at the green grass. As he held onto his hat loosely with two hands, the older man showed a very serious and concerned face, nodding.

"Come inside. Supper has just been made. I'll have my servants clean you up, and you can join with us to eat," the man offered as America nodded, then trailed behind the older man inside.

"Thank you, George," America replied, following three negro _servants_, or slaves depending on your point of view, who were hoping that their master would give them some shillings for doing some extra work. George tended to reward his _servants_, if they did some extra work like tending to his guests, or finding a lost belonging that belonged to a neighbor.

The large rectangular table was set with food made by George's and Martha's _servants._ It was roast beef, corn and potatoes with apple cider for drink. Everyone sat down to eat, George giving his three _servants_, who helped bathe America, about fifteen shillings each.

Slavery was common, mainly around the south part of the New England colonies. It had become such an everyday occurrence, that America can't pass by one plantation that _didn't_ have slaves of the color black. George and Martha were no different. In America's mind, as long as the owners treated their slaves with some sort of respect, he never dared to judge. While slavery was life for the other Americans, including George himself, America knew there was a time slavery was never heard of. It all started about last century at the very colony he was in, Virginia.

There was a man named Anthony Johnson of Virginia, a former indentured servant and slave of Africa. _Yes, he was black._ He earned his freedom, and became a tobacco farmer, owning a plantation of his own. With owning plantations, he owned indentured servants, both black and white. During the time, it was common for plantation owners to own over hundreds of indentured servants of mixed skin color. One of those _indentured servants_ was John Casor, also African and black. He was to serve under Anthony Johnson, like many other indentured servants, for seven years before being provided with supplies to own their own plantation, and live on their own.

John Casor went to Robert Parker, claiming that his seven years of service had been expired seven years earlier, and he was under Anthony Johnson _illegally_ so he could work under Robert Parker. Anthony Johnson sued both John Casor and Robert Parker in court for this deed, demanding for John Cesor to be punished by becoming his slave for life. The court decreed John Casor to be Anthony Johnson's slave for life as punishment for his illegal act. This was the start of slavehood for many of the Africans, who came to the New England colonies. This slavery punishment eventually turned into permanent slavehood for anyone that was the color black, or were inside the cargo of every ship as _slaves_, and slavery became a major part of the life and economy of the southern colonies.

America was still working on finding ways to get rid of the idea of permanent slavery, though he was still young, he had hundreds of indentured servants of his own both black and white, and he wanted to spread his freedom to everyone. He knew that coming to his place would be expensive for the poor people of the world. That was why England gave America the idea of indentured servitude. It was a great way of giving everyone, both rich and poor, the chance to live in America, while still paying for the trip. Now, America was going to have to find another way of giving everyone a chance to live in a land where they no longer had to suffer from religious persecution or _slavery_ of any kind. What kind of land of liberty would he be, if the people that stepped into his land ended up in more discrimination, persecution and slavery? It's bad enough he was having problems with Native America.

It was very quiet at the table, and George knew it was odd for America to not speak a word. This was aside from the fact that America came _alone_, without Canada or Britain with him. Then again, if this was any regular visit, surely America would've sent George a letter, or at least dressed in better clothes. America looked tired and depressed.

"This seems unexpected of you to show up without warning. I've heard there was trouble in Massachusetts," Martha started, showing her small smile.

"Trouble?" America simply replied, chuckling sarcastically. "More like _we're_ in trouble."

"What's wrong? Why have you come here so sudden?" George asked with concern.

America forced himself to swallow the beef he ate, then replied, _"we're at war."_

"What?" Martha gasped.

"The regulars went to Concord and Lexington, Massachusetts to take our weaponry. I was spending the night with Sam and John at Boston when this guy named Paul Revere knocked on the door, and told us what happened. I got my gun, telling the two to head out to escape their arrest, while I dealt with the Tories," America started, taking another bite of beef. "I made it to Concord, luckily, then... i-i... I think I started a war with England." America held his head, a tear squeezing out, as one of the servants handed him a handkerchief. "Thank you, Miss."

"Oh Lord, help us all," Martha responded, placing her hands over her chest.

"You have our sympathy, America. I don't believe any of us wanted this to happen. I didn't think this _would_ ever happen. You and England... you're like... brothers."

"I know! I jus-" America said, covering his face. "I was trying to let King Georgie know that he can't take advantage of me like I'm cattle, and it led to this. England wasn't even involved in that charade, and now I've forced him to put a gun to my head and... I- I don't know what to do! I can't go back home, now that war has started. I have nowhere else to go."

"So, you came here?"

"Yeah... nobody would expect me to be in the Tori colony of Virginia, and you're the only one that knows about Britain, Canada and I, besides the delegates and good ol' Benjamin. Though, Britain knows about Benjamin or you knowing."

"So, Benjamin found out?"

"Nothing gets past him, especially since he's the one that I pay for my spectacles, and... other reasons," America said, then let out a sigh.

"Why don't you tell us what happened in complete detail? I'm curious as to know why you believe this is _your_ fault."

America looked down at his food, eating another bite. Then, he said, "we can talk after we eat. I'd like it to be discussed _privately_..." he eyed at the _servants_ around the dining room.

"Don't trust my servants?" George smirked slightly.

"I honestly _wish_ that would be the case," America said, taking a bite of potatoes. "It's a very hush subject, and I'd hate to give anyone else anymore stress than I already am giving by announcing 'we're at war.'"

"Understandable. We can discuss this in the guest room with no one, but us. I know this has be hard on you," George said in pity as America nodded.

"Thank you," America thanked, then beginning eating as much as he usually does. "Mmmm, this is good." He looked at one of the _servant_ women. "Tell the cook I said, 'thanks.'"

"I'll be sure to tell her, Mr. America," the _servant_ woman said with a bright smile.


	2. Shot Heard Round the World

**Another chapter. This will pretty much set up the characters and how they respond to the conflict. I want to bring out how everyone reacted during this time, both in England and in America. Remember that America wasn't completely pro "I want independence" when the war started. He didn't even think about it during this time.**

**I will try to make Scotland's and North Ireland's speech as easy to read as possible, but please bare with me. Try sounding the words and you should get an idea of what they're saying. Review please!**

England, in his decorated red waistcoat over a white long-sleeved collared shirt and dark red breeches, was in the courtyard of the palace playing archery with his brothers. It was the only way to keep them from constantly arguing, and driving their boss out of his mind, while he was dealing with political issues with France, Spain and now America.

England made another perfect shot, before seeing North Ireland miss by an inch.

"HA! Ye can'ae make a gud shot ta make Englain prood ay ye!" Scotland teased North Ireland.

"Quiet, yer twat!" North Ireland yelled as the other brothers laughed. "Dis is why me bra'der lef ye!"

"I left him, because it is bad enough to strangle four brothers, compared to five. _Dear Lord!_" England responded.

"Do's that inclewd me?" Wales asked.

"You're _tolerable_, but if I was to choose between you and Australia, I'd choose Australia," England said, shooting another arrow at his target, which was only a millimeter from his previous shot.

"You o'nly say that, becawse he looks 10."

"Sod off!"

The other brothers laughed, while one of the British officers marched his way toward them. The laughter quieted down as England was handed a message in folded paper. He opened and read it as the British Officer began to speak.

"War has broken out, my lord. General Gade went to Massachusetts, as his majesty ordered him to, but the rebels have been warned ahead of time. General Gade and his men were met with about 70 minutemen, the rest being men young and old, armed. From what General Gade said, both sides were wiry, then a shot was heard from the left, and both sides began shooting each other like mad. We counted 73 killed, 174 wounded and 26 missing from our side," the British Officer announced.

"_God damnit!_ He promised me there would be no war!" England shouted in rage, throwing the paper on the ground. He took a deep breath to cool himself off. "How many of the colonists did you count?"

"I-I don't know, my lord. Probably as many as we had, take a hundred or half of it."

"Did you check our mansion to see if anyone was home?"

"Yes, we did. The mansion is completely empty, besides the indentures, my lord."

"_I was afraid of that._ Thank you. You may leave," England responded in a wiry voice as the British Officer took a bow, then left. "That bloody yank! I'm at war with America! WHY!? If only he would just listen to me, instead of going off the handle!"

"I dorn't see wa ar boss can'ae lit the kid's government be involved wi' oors. Bairn knows hoo ta pay warfar, an' took caur ay himself damn weel durin' The Great Rebellion. Wa na lit heem graw a wee bit?" Scotland thought offhandedly.

_"You so'und so smart for noot owning colonies like England and I,"_ Wales said sarcastically.

"'at is whit I wood da," Scotland shrugged.

"Massachusetts has been having problems. America says he's been trying to talk to his delegate Samuel Adams about this, especially after leading the Boston Tea Party," England said, sitting himself down on the grassy ground. He covered his face. _"How could this have happened?"_

"So, waat 'appened?" North Ireland asked, sitting down next to his brother.

"Well, it all started from those pouf Acts. America told me that they've been making his people upset, because they weren't _represented_. I talked to my boss, and he did repeal the Stamp Act. Though, more Acts were being declared, making the colonists more upset than they already were. Then, the Boston Tea Party happened. America assured that he made no involvement, despite the fact he no longer drinks tea now. That's when King George placed out the Townshed Revenue Act, which made, even America, very upset-"

"But whit Acts did America na loch?" Scotland asked curiously.

"Well, he didn't approve the Quartering Act and the Stamp Act. The Sugar Act he didn't really care about. His main problem with these Acts are that his misrepresentation is making his people upset, and him feel used. He doesn't blame me for it, though mostly blames our boss. These days, he doesn't like our boss at all, though don't tell him that; I'm already trying to keep America's punishments from being more severe than they already are," England said as Scotland nodded. "So anyway, the last he told me was to inform our boss that, while he has and always will be loyal to the crown, he will not let anyone take advantage of him or his people."

"Waat is yis'r say in dis?" North Ireland asked.

"I think America may have a rebellious streak, but I don't doubt that our boss is abusing him. Honestly, the taxes are only a few pounds compared to here. I don't see how the taxes are a big deal. I also will not let France getting his filthy hands on America. Still... having America tossed aside is a bit unfair for him, and I am trying to convince our boss reconsider, though America is making this really hard on me. Why can't he just let me handle things!? If I can convince Parliment to look into the Acts of New England, I'm sure they will let America have a say!"

"If ur boss is abusin' America, he shood jobby yer fancy tea!" Scotland proclaimed.

England grabbed Scotland by his collar and threatened, _"are you trying to teach me how to raise my colonies?"_

"I ain'a sayin' na different than ye in Th' Glorioos Revolution. America has as much reit ta barnie a nonwinnin' battle. I did an' noo am part ay Parliament," Scotland glared in England's eyes before England pushed Scotland to the ground.

"I don't know why I am discussing things like these with you f**king c**ts. All you've ever done was give me trouble. I'm going to my quarters," England declared, marching on his way to the palace.

"'e's stressed," North Ireland thought.

* * *

"America, wake up!" America heard a man in a red waistcoat over a long-sleeved white shirt with baggy sleeves, darker red breeches, white stockings and black shoes. He wasn't wearing his powdered wig, so he showed little hair on his head.

America moaned, stirring a little, as the man continued, "the regulars are coming! Paul Revere told us on our front door!"

"What?" America responded, his body shot up and his eyes widened. "NOW!?"

"Yes _now_! Get off of that bed, and get dressed! There's not a moment to lose!" The man said, leaving out of the room.

_"Shit,"_ America muttered, making sure the man, Samuel Adams, didn't hear it.

America dressed quickly in a white long-sleeved shirt and a pair of black trousers, stockings and shoes. He almost stumbled down the stairs as soon as he saw Samuel Adams and John Hancock about to leave. America made his way out the door, pushing them aside, while saying, "'scues me!"

"I swear, America! I wonder how many of your people share the same kind of manners as you do?" Samuel rebuked America.

"Sorry," America apologized offhandedly, getting out his rifle before unharnessing his horse.

"And where do you think _you're_ going?" John asked.

"I need to be with my people. You guys get out of here. Pennsylvania would be a good place to go," America said, mounting himself onto the saddle.

"And what about you? What will happen when this gets rough? Remember what happened in the Boston Massacre?" Samuel warned.

"That was different. This will be in a more controlled situation. I need to make sure this doesn't turn into a war, while letting King Georgie know that he can't treat me like a slave."

"And what if a war breaks out?"

"A war is not going to break out, I promise!"

"What _if_?"

America stood quiet, then replied, _"may God have mercy on us."_ He rode off after that.

America took off on his horse, trying to hurry quickly to Concord to join with his fellow patriots through the black darkness of night. All he had now was his rifle, which was the American Longrifle. It wasn't much, and would take about a minute or half a minute for him to reload, but this was the best he could have. He never really had to worry about military supplies, since the French and Indian War. Now, he had to defend himself against the redcoats sent by King George himself.

America made sure he traveled off the road, so he wouldn't be harassed by the Tories. Sometimes he had to slow down, though very quickly. He couldn't risk being caught or slow down in any given second. He did manage to wake any nearby house up to warn them about the British troops being on their way to Concord, Massachusetts. It was the time for them to defend their land and property.

It took him about five minutes or more to make it where he needed to be, gaining directions from the local boys wanting to join the fight. America was partly glad, being that he no longer had to worry about _not being old enough_ to fight in battle. It was hard enough showing up at a Congress meeting looking too young to be a governor of some sort. Then again, he also learned fighting in battle was different than being a politician.

America harnessed his horse near the Buckman Tavern, where all the militia were gathering to make plans on defending their ground. All the men young and old gathered there, America being no exception to this. Inside, he met with several men in different colored coats over a white shirt, some with hats. The rest were boys young and old with their working or hunting clothing.

One man had a brown coat and a short ponytail. He walked over to America.

"What's your name, young man?" The man asked.

"Alfred Jones," America replied. It was the human name he used whenever he wanted to blend in with the crowd. He watched this _name_ being written down.

"Age?"

"16."

"I've never heard of you."

"Visitor, from Boston. I was staying over with some friends when I heard about the regulars."

"Then, it's good to have you fighting with us. Welcome, Alfred," the man said, smiling and shaking America's hand. "May I see your arms?"

"Yes," America replied, handing the man his hunting rifle. The man looked at it skeptically, then handed it back to him. "I don't think we'll end up in a fight. Hopefully, the regulars will walk away, but if the worst happens, make each shot count."

"I will, um..."

"John Parker, minuteman of Lexington."

"Right," America replied bashfully.

* * *

"Mr. Parker made plans about our attack, telling us not to shoot until the first one shoots. It was such a _simple_ order!" America said inside the guest bedroom where he was to sleep at the Washington's home. He was with George, who was sitting next to him on the bed, both in their white gowns. "I was with the other men... you know, trying to blend in like usual. I couldn't help it! I was so scared, and my finger was right at the trigger, and..."

"What happened?" George asked as America's lips became a firm line, glaring at his feet.

"I..." America said quietly.

* * *

At Concord, Massachusetts, on the plain green grass with the river behind him, America stood with the other men and boys. He watched as General Gade ordered his men to spread out to try making the colonists more nervous than they already were. America stood his ground, shaking under his shoes before realizing that his finger on the trigger tightened. All of a sudden.

BAM!

The whole world stood silent, and America froze in shock at what he just did. In five long seconds, more shots began firing, and America found himself running toward the lake, then jumped himself onto one of the rather large boulders under the bridge to give him enough time to reload without getting his gun wet. Being the lake was rather deep this time of year, the water did go a bit over his ankles, and had to duck under the bridge. He had to hurry before the regulars made it to the bridge. This wasn't a battle prepared like many others in the French and Indian War. He had never been scared, since those days.

He quickly jumped to the bridge where he joined with the other patriots to defeat against the regulars in their conquest to make it to Lexington, Massachusetts.

* * *

"So, you made the first shot?" George asked.

"It was an accident. I was so scared and... and... _George, what should I do? How can I stop this madness?_" America pleaded.

George took his young country in his arms, America feeling tears pouring from his eyes, as George whispered, _"face it, America. You are at war with England. You can't quit, now that it's started."_

_"But I never _wanted_ this? My men are going to DIE! I'm not strong!"_ America sobbed, separating himself to wipe his tears with the handkerchief he was given during supper. "I mean sure, there was the French and Indian War, but Britain was with me. I also had Canada by my side too. I don't have anyone now! I'm just a cluster of colonies of farmers! I hardly have soldiers that are from the French and Indian War, almost every soldier I have is with Canada, and only a couple of my colonies are patriots, the rest being damn Tories. I think I might be a Tory as well. I mean, heaven forbid, I've been with my brother, since I can hardly remember, and now I'm at _war_ with him! I can't stand against the Great British Empire, are you _kidding_ me!?"

"I won't lie, it will be difficult."

"Difficult? HA! _That's an understatement!_ You can't expect me to fight against a force to be reckoned."

"No..." George admitted, taking America's hand. "But I promise that you are stronger than you realize. I saw it at the battlefield those years ago. I can't promise you a victory, but I am not going to see you run off when things get tough. You're not like other colonies, do you know why?"

"No."

"Because you are _made_ of the British Empire. Look at your people. Are they not British?"

"Yeah, but-"

"_But_ you are not just of British, are you? You also are of Finnish, Dutch, French, Spaniards, Indians, and many others. Among that, you also know your own lands, do you not? The British all have red uniforms that can be spotted miles away. More importantly, you have your people that will fight with you."

_"I can't fight my brother."_

"America, that is your own decision. You must decide your loyalties to the crown or your people. If you do, may God have mercy on your soul," George said as America stared at his thumbs, which were twiddling. George got up from the bed, taking the candle, which lit up the room a little. He blew out some of the other candles lighting the room. "I bid you goodnight. I hope you've come up with a decision on this."

_"I think I will,"_ America muttered tiredly, covering himself with the bed sheets and blankets. "Goodnight."

"Don't abandon your people, America. We _need_ you."

George left the guest room, closing the door, as America wept on the pillow until he was fast asleep. So many things were popping in his head, questioning of what he should do next. This battle was only the beginning, and he knew it.


	3. The Story With Benjamin Franklin

**Now, just so everyone gets the idea, this will be focused more on story than history. In fact, my viewers should ALREADY know the story of the Revolution. If they don't, at least it'll be entertaining. Just keep in mind that this is BASED off of historical events, but that doesn't mean every single detail that happens in this story is what really happened. **

**Also, I deeply apologize for taking a while. Inari had schoolwork to do, so things got busy. Luckily, I was able to get this chapter checked and sent back to post this to all you lovely people XD Review please!**

America was inside his mansion reading over a letter given to him, looking it over with an eyeglass since spectacles weren't invented at the time. While looking it over, a young teenage boy, who seemed to be about the same age as America, stood beside him not too far from his view. The boy seemed very skeptical, but humble. He wore long brown hair, wearing a white shirt and dark blue trousers over an apron.

The teenage boy half smiled, America looking over at him, asking, "what cha thinking?"

"A way to hold that eyeglass to your face, so you don't have to hold it all the time. Maybe have two," the boy replied brightly as America chuckled in response.

"You know, that's not a bad idea. Think you could give me one of those?"

"Sure, if I was a miracle worker."

"Who knows? You could be."

The teen laughed as America continued to look over the letter. The teen loved Alfred a lot. He was always playful, and loved him like a brother without being so stern. The two grew on each other for a few years now, especially since Alfred was the boy's editor.

"You're getting better at your writing, _Miss DoGood_. You could build your own print shop someday," Alfred as the young boy laughed, being given back the letter. "Though, you still need to rewrite it. You made a run-on sentence, and a few coma splices in these areas." Alfred pointed the marks on the letter.

"Darn," The boy replied.

"It's okay, Ben, you're really getting better. We have to make a few mistakes once in our lifetime."

"Yeah, but it _has_ to be good or my brother will never accept my work! I went to you to teach me how to be a better writer."

"I know. You have that witty personality, and share the same personality as me. Who doesn't like _that_?" **  
**

_"James,"_ Benjamin replied in slight disappointment.

"As Arthur would always tell us, _stiff an upper lip._ You will have more disappointment before you have praises. You will never get better until you make mistakes."

"I don't want to make mistakes. I want to help my family! I already disappointed Pa in the candle making business, and James doesn't like me."

"Personally, if I wanted to get better at something like this, I'd want to do it for me, not just for my family. When it comes down to it, _you _will always be worth it to improve doing what you do best. Families, on the other hand, can't make up their minds on what they want to do."

Benjamin laughed, then looked over the letter he made, saying, "I think, if not for James or my family, _you're_ more than worth to help."

"Thanks a lot, Ben," America thanked as Banjamin smiled brightly, then reached to grab another piece of paper to rewrite his letter to his brother, James.

"I kinda envy you for your family always being proud of everything you do."

"After you're done, how would you like to go fishing?"

"That'd be awesome!"

"Not as awesome as me!"

"You're so full of yourself, you know that?" Benjamin said, folding his arms as America stuck his tongue.

America was like Banjamin's best friends, practically like a brother. They always enjoyed each other's company, since finding America to be his editor and proofread his letters to his brother James by _Silence DoGood_. Benjamin Franklin had been working under his bother James Franklin for the _New England Courant_ for about three years now, and had written at least 10 letters under Silence DoGood.

America hardly ever befriended humans ever since Davie, but seemed to have not grown out of the bad habit of befriending humans. Whenever someone, close to his age group, came close to him, America would instantly have started something between the two. Being that America was a colony at the time, and him and Canada were in charge of the colonies, America was not as busy as he would be only 54 years from this time. One of the hobbies America had time for was helping one of his loyal subjects in something trivial.

Though, this _job_ as an editor would soon come to an end not too long from the start of _Miss Dogood_.

* * *

America heard his door open, knowing it was from Benjamin. He closed the door behind him, sighing aloud.

"I told James," Benjamin said as America walked up to him. "I only wanted to show how good I was." _**  
**_

"I'm sorry," America apologized as Benjamin showed a sad smile.

"It's not your fault. As you say about what your brother always says, _stiff an upper lip,_ right?

"Besides, I'm not even writing those letters anymore, and I only told him, because he wrote an ad in the Newspaper, asking for the identity of Silence DoGood. I've worked so hard in his shop, and did what I was told. I thought, since he wrote that he'd give _Miss DoGood_ his thanks and ask her to write more, maybe he could finally give me some recognition as a Newspaper writer.

"Now, I know _exactly_ what he thinks. I saw how he responded when he saw the letters. He's just being mean, and doesn't want me to be recognized at all."

"What are you going to do?"

"For now, keep working and make plans, so that I can make my own print shop where _everyone_ is allowed to speak their minds! It'll be great! I can see it now, Alfred!"

"So, you are taking my advice?"

"Yep! I'll find a way to make myself the head of my own Newspaper shop, so James won't prevent my work from being published. I love my brother, but he can be such a jerk sometimes."

"I can't say there's a _brother_ that isn't."

"I can hear you, d**k!" America heard his brother Canada, who just came out of the front door.

"Sorry, didn't see ya," America apologized as Canada sighed aloud. Benjamin grinned and him and America laughed together.

* * *

It was only a year later that Benjamin's brother James was thrown in jail for speaking badly of his governor, making fun of the clergy in the process, when the Franklin's were having a debate with powerful Puritan preachers, the Mathers, who supported inoculation. Because of this, Benjamin was in charge of the _New England Courant_, America deciding to help. _**  
**_

"I know James can be a jerk, but he does make some good points. Even a person that is rude is worth listening to, if he speaks with reason," Benjamin said.

"Nobody wants to listen to a fool, Ben. They should let him speak, but that's not going to make everyone else listen."

"The difference, Alfred, is that a wise man speaks, because he has something to say. A fool speaks, because he _has_ to say something."

"Huh... I never really thought about that. You really know how to come up with fancy ideas. Though, I'm surprised you're willing to defend your brother, after the way he's been treating you."

"I don't like James, but I love him. I will forgive him, give him a chance when he gets out of jail. If he keeps harassing me, I'll leave."

"Isn't that against the law?"

"I can't be free, if I stay with my brother. I thought I could get better, but I'm still where I was at before. My work isn't getting published, and James can't expect to get his way with me all the time. I'm 17 and it's time for me to start a life. I want to be free, Alfred. I want to BE free. I will always love James, and he'll always be my brother, but I cannot learn, unless I grow up. As the Good Book says, _I was once a child, spake as a child, and thought as a child. When I become a man, I put away childish things._"

"Where will you go?"

"Probably New York. If I find nothing there, I'll find a job maybe around Philadelphia or something." **  
**

"It's not going to be easy."

"What part of life is easy? If things were easy, I'd already be married."

America laughed aloud with Benjamin. The two were enjoying their company, while running the _New England Courant_. They kept the newspaper running until James Franklin was released from jail. When that happened, it wasn't long before Benjamin found himself on his way to aboard a ship. America helped him sneak himself there to make a safe journey to New York.

"I will miss you, dearly," America said.

"Don't be sad, Alfred. I'll come back," Benjamin promised.

America grabbed Benjamin, and gave him a tight hug. Tears poured onto Benjamin's shirt as Benjamin hugged America back. After a while, Benjamin grabbed America's face, tears staining his cheeks, bringing their faces closely across from each other.

_"I won't forget you. I'll always remember that face,"_ Benjamin promised with a cracked voice.

"Me too."

With that Benjamin made his way to the ship that would take him to New York. America knew in his heart he'd probably never see Benjamin ever again. This is what he thought at first. He never thought he would ever see the young and brilliant Benjamin Franklin ever again until that one fateful day.

* * *

"I swear to god, America. Why must you get yourself in all kinds of trouble? Of all the reasons to complain about, you complain about the bloody stamps!" England complained, walking with America in London.

"I only want his majesty to understand where I'm coming from. Canada and I have almost no right to say what becomes law in our colonies! Do you know how that makes us feel, England!?" America complained.

"I know. I know. Please excuse me, but this entire day has been stressful. You're going to be going before the parliament, and I don't want you to look foolish," England said, sighing, then stopped to straighten America's jacket. "And would it kill you to keep your suit nice!? I bought that for you to wear here!"

_"Yes, Mommy,"_ America teased as England shot him a disapproving glare. "Oh co'mon! Stop looking at me like that! Don't you have some sense of humor?"

"Actually, I do, and will show _plenty_ of it, if you mess this up," England smirked evilly as America gulped. "I thought as much."

"Say, aren't you Arthur Kirkland?" A voice asked as the brothers turned and saw the man that would appeal before the House of Commons. His face stood blank, staring directly at America. "Alfred. I wouldn't forget that face."

"Yeah. I've seen what you've been up to lately. What with the_ Pennsylvania Gazette_, Old Richard's Almanac, and many of your incredible inventions like the spectacles," America said happily, hugging Benjamin tightly. "Good to see ya."

"You too, old friend."

"I expect the both of you to appear in front of Parliament to have your say on repealing the Stamp Act," England said, then turned to America. "And Alfred, please be on your best behavior. I'm already pulling my teeth with my boss as it is."

"I'll be on my best behavior," America promised, rolling his eyes. England sighed, then rubbed the bridge of his nose.

"You'll find me with Parliament. If you excuse me, I must get rid of this blasted headache."

England made his way across the side of the street as America sighed, "he's a bit stressed with the events that's been going on."

"I would say so. You don't seem to have changed a bit, since the last we've met," Benjamin said skeptically.

"Yeah... about that..." America replied bafflingly.

"No need to say. You know me best. I'd like to learn and solve things on my own. Nothing gets passed old Benjamin Franklin."

America chuckled, "You know, you're still the same awesome dude I'd see working with his brother at the _New England Courant_... maybe grown a few feet."

"And some gray hair," Benjamin added, then a thought came into his mind. "I am curious, how old are you _really_?"

"In truth... almost 160."

"Hm... interesting. And your brother?"

"Matthew is the same age, just about, and Arthur is somewhere about 1700."

"The same age as Great Britain, just like yours and Matthew's are the same as New England," Benjamin smirked as America's eyes almost popped out of his sockets. "Nothing gets passed me. The place you live in is also the settlement of Massachusetts Bay where our ancestors made their first settlement for the Puritans. What made me interested in you was how you acted nothing like them. It was almost like you were a combination of every colony I've been to, including New York. There was always something in every place in New England I've been to that reminded me of you. When I went up North, there were those that reminded me of Matthew, and Arthur reminds me of every man and woman I've talked to in England. It almost baffles me how small our world _really_ is, how endless the possibilities are for different kinds of people. It's beautiful." _**  
**_

_"Yeah, it is."_

* * *

Benjamin heard the door to the _Pennsylvania Gazette_ open, his eyes perking up, to see a very distressed and upset Canada walking through. Benjamin and his apprentices were printing the events of _The Battle of Lexington and Concord_, the journalists having gotten the story from both the Patriot and British soldiers. Canada looked around the room that stood still.

"Matthew, is there something you need?" Benjamin asked.

"Where's Alfred?" Matthew asked sternly.

"Has he run off? I have not heard anything from him. John and Samuel arrived here to escape arrest, but they assumed Alfred went home. If he did run off, I doubt this would be the first place he'll go. You and Arthur already know our story," Benjamin replied calmly.

"I know. Though, I'm willing to look though every square inch of these colonies to find him," Canada said, British soldiers arriving through the door to search the place.

One of the apprentices, the blond boy in a ponytail was about to protest until a redhaired British woman stopped him, shaking her head. Benjamin gave him the signal to calm down.

Matthew was very upset at the events that took place at _The Battle of Lexington and Concord_, so much so that he was having his troops search _everywhere_ for him. Matthew couldn't believe something like this could happen, and blamed his brother for it all.

"That damn Yank! How could he do this to us!? If only he could've just been quiet, and just waited, things would be fine!" Canada glared, his fist shaking.

"If we all stayed quiet, then all you Tories would just be stomping all over us!" The blond boy spoke out.

"You stop it, can't you see this man is in great distress? His brother has run away and gone missing, probably dead by now. I don't know any sane human, who wouldn't be troubled by something like this, even if one was a loyalist and the other a patriot," the British redhead woman rebuked.

"I'm sorry for your loss, Matthew. I can't make any promises, since I don't know how your type do war, but I do hope things turn out for the better," Benjamin said with pity written on his face.

"Me too. I- Are you _sure_ you don't know where Alfred could be?" Matthew asked, his voice pleading.

"I'm afraid I don't. I would assume he's with someone you and Arthur doesn't know is aware of your kind."

"At this point, it could be anyone," Matthew glared, crossing his arms.

"You are right. If I were you, I'd search around the South. I believe it's still loyal to Britain, and Alfred would perhaps hide somewhere that's not going to be filled with patriot citizens like us."

"Then, it'll take forever, at this point," Matthew muttered, then his eyes gazed to the right. "Do you think he'll come back?"

"Only Lord knows."

Matthew sighed, then looked up at Benjamin with such meek eyes, saying, "I saw what happened with you being accused for the _Boston Tea Party_. Arthur gives his sympathy. He doesn't blame you for what happened, and neither do I."

"Thank you, but I meant what I said then. I didn't believe in the separation of America and Britain, but it seems that the time is nearing. Parliament no longer listens to us. We are, but a footstool. If we continue this way as it is, they will take advantage of us eventually. I can't bare to see all of America suffer more abuse than he is taking," Benjamin said, his apprentices finding it weird that he referred to _America_ as a "he" and not a "she."

_"It's not the same as it was with you and James,"_ Canada whispered, so only Benjamin could hear.

"I never said it was from _England_... or Britain."


	4. Arnold and the Green Mountain Boys

**Alright, time for more back story, though this one won't be very long and isn't as close as with Benjamin Franklin. This one will just need a short back story, then we will get to the main theme of this chapter. I originally was going to leave this out, but the idea popped into my head that this would be a good way to setup the back story and relationship between Canada and this character we're going to be introduced to. I also needed Canada to be somewhat involved in the war, protecting his people, before siding with Britain, since it hasn't been officially decided what side he'd take yet. Review please!**

Hidden in the dark corner of a local tavern in Rhode Island, there was a young man, age 19. He had a mug of beer that was half empty. He continually glared at it, his long brown hair only kept neat by his ponytail. He wore a long-sleeved white shirt, and a pair of dusty brown trousers. He kept himself hidden to keep his emotions from ragging like usual. He never had good control over his temper, which constantly got him into trouble.

How many times had his mother scolded him for that temper? Spanked him? It almost disgusted him that he had to find himself in this tavern to keep himself from taking all his anger out on his loved ones. He could almost believe he was close to madness.

Thinking of his mother only made his anger grow. Now, this man would never see his mother again... never again. If only his family were rich like the old times, that his father didn't have to turn to local taverns to make enough money to get by. It just wasn't fair! _Nothing ever was._

"HEY! Wha don't cha come join us? Take a load off!" One of the locals offered, who was playing a card game with his buddies.

"I'd rather _not_," the man replied in a deep frustrated voice. The men got the message, seeing that this man was _not_ in the mood at the moment, and returned to their game.

"Alfred, it's late, we need to get back home!" The man heard someone shout. He looked up, raising two eyebrows at the identical twin young men. This was the first time he's ever seen _adult_ twins. He couldn't tell the two apart at all. One twin had a hold of the Alfred one, from behind, by his two arms.

"But Mat, I'm hungry! You'd be hungry too, if you were getting mulled at by Indians constantly!" This Alfred guy shouted.

"That's your fault for being reckless! You should listen to- oof!" The other twin glared before being pushed back through the tavern door by the Alfred guy's strong arm.

"You got any tasty food around here?" Alfred asked the bartender.

"Yes, but may I ask you not horseplay in my tavern?" The bartender asked in a rebuking manner.

"Sorry. So, what do you have?"

The man noticed the other twin, who was pushed through the door and now laid between in and out of the tavern. He got up, rubbing his head before being kicked aside by two locals.

"Move aside!" The local walking through shouted. The other twin, who was kicked, just glared at the locals.

The man, watching the entire scene of the twins, decided it would be gentleman-like to make sure this other twinwas okay. He seemed like a kind fellow, and this Alfred guy was rather rude by pushing his brother like that. Then again, he knew he was the last person that had the right to talk. He walked over to the other twin.

"Are you okay?" The man asked, offering a hand. The kinder twin took the hand, and was helped up.

"Thanks. I'm fine. My brother can be kind of a handful. He dragged me all the way here from Fort Niagara just because he wanted fish from _this_ particular tavern," the kinder twin replied, looking very angry at the moment. He glanced at his twin scarfing through the fish he ordered.

"Shouldn't he be helping?"

"He should and has. Though... he's always _sure_ at everything. Fits his reputation," the kinder twin said, then his eyes widened, realizing something. "Oh, pardon me, my name is Matthew Williams!" He offered his hand.

"Benedict Arnold," Benedict replied, showing a smile on his face for the first time, then shaking Matthew's hand. "I must say, you've brightened my day, Mr. Williams. This entire evening has been a mess."

"I'm so sorry. I know I get bad days too."

"Yes, though it's a more _personal_ matter for me," Benedict Arnold said, showing a sad smile. Then his face brightened up once more. "I would like to see you again in the future, after this bloody war is over."

"That would be my pleasure. Maybe Alfred will be less of a handful."

The two men laughed, starting a very quick friendship that grew over time.

* * *

Canada had just left with Benedict Arnold from Massachusetts Committee of Safety, being granted permission to capture Fort Ticonderoga, which was located at New Hampshire. Technically, it was supposed to be a part of New York, according to the New York officials. This was a matter that America had not bothered solving, which irritated Canada to no end. He hated being forced to do his brother's dirty work, when HE was the one that started the blasted war in the first place.

Mounting his horse, Canada turned his head, and waited for Benedict to gather his men to follow them on their way to Bennington, New Hampshire. After they were all ready, everyone galloped on their way to their destination, Canada being slightly behind Benedict.

"I must thank you for your support, Matthew," Benedict thanked.

"Just doing my job," Canada replied, then sighed.

"Is something wrong, old friend?"

"It's my brother. He's not taking responsibility, and it's weighing me down. It's hard working with someone that's making you do your dirty work."

"I sincerely apologize. I am sure things will get better. I hope to help gain Quebec to give us a place to settle in, if the Redcoats decide to get rough and_they will_."

"That would be splendid! It's filled with forest lands, game and the Redcoats won't be able to find us as easy. Not to mention we'll be able to create a blockade to keep them from us."

"That's the spirit! I'm hoping these men will be more civil than their reputation. They don't have a good name in New York."

"No, they don't. I wish _someone_ would do his _job_ and settle the matter! If not, it's going to get out of hand," Canada said, then sighed. "I suppose they'll be taking advantage over this war."

"And I'm taking advantage of this to hopefully support my wife and three sons."

"One track mind. I wish I had the luxury for that. It's always confusing. I'm fighting this war to make sure my people are safe, but I hate how everyone acts around here. I can't go home without hearing all this talk about separation! It's not that I don't agree with what's been going on, with all these taxes, but it's a bit extreme to decide to separate from England. Why can't things be solved through compromise?"

"You must understand that our colonies were created to escape from religious persecution, to escape from tyranny. After our war with France, we find ourselves with more _tyranny_. This is a land of freedom and liberty. It's not easy to take away something someone is born with. You might as well take away their way of life."

_"I suppose,"_ Canada said, looking up at the morning sky.

America had always been a freedom and liberty colony. Canada was born following orders. It's always been that way since he was first found by France. Granted, Canada only stayed with him for 30 minutes before being captured by England, but following orders has always been a part of him. America was different. He was spoiled by England more than any other colony. The same was with Canada, only he was ignored more than America.

Though, Canada was a part of England and would help him anyway he could. England raised him, let him live with his brother and made them a part of New England. Canada saw no reason to be against England. Yet, here he was, on his way to the battlefield to capture an English fort. The only reason Canada was joining the fight was because this was his job. It was his duty as a nation to protect his people. Capturing this fort would give his and America's people the supplies they need to fight, being that they didn't have military weapons or anything of the sort.

It was practically an entire day before everyone made it to Bennington, New Hampshire. On the hillside was a camp filled with rugged men in outfits Canada swore he saw in America's closet. America always had a habit of not dressing properly, always being in his farm clothes. Though, Canada could understand where his brother was coming from. America always lived under luxury and found it unfair that he could dress as proper as he wanted, but his people couldn't. That was why, after the French and Indian War, America began dressing so horribly that England had to buy a suit for him.

Benedict walked up to the captain of the Green Mountain Boys, Ethan Allen. He seemed huge and rough looking. Canada was almost nervous, then... they all laughed.

"You think I care what _authority_ you got to commandin' my boys!? I believe it's _them_ you want to talk to and it seems they've already made up their minds," Ethan smirked as the boys laughed once again. Canada swore they were multiple copies of America.

Benedict was both shocked and angry at the same time. Canada walked up to him, and placed a hand on his shoulder to calm him down.

"While we did come under permission, aren't we all fighting for the same cause?" Canada asked calmly.

"And what would you be? You look a bit young to be joining the ranks."

"On the contrary, he's close to my age. He looks young, but he's older than he looks," Benedict assured. He wasn't aware that Canada and America were _nations_, being why he called them by their human names. It was also hard for him to tell them apart, but would quickly favor Canada out of his nobility, calmness, maturity and patients.

"Is that so?"

"Yes. I am older than I look. I'm here to fight for our noble cause. There is a British Fort here that could give our men the military they need. We will be collecting them to bring to our boys. It would be an honor to join with your men..." Canada offered, eying the men, showing a smirk up his lips. "That is... if they will _cooperate_." There was a short pause, then everyone laughed and Canada chuckled, giving a wink.

"Well, you seem to know my boys' sense of humor. I think I will take you and Mr. Arnold on that offer. Though,_I_ will be commanding my boys."

"I suppose I can live with that. Thank you," Benedict replied, shaking Ethan's hand.

Canada was happy an agreement was settled between Ethan and Benedict without a fight. These Green Mountain Boys acted so much like his brother, so it was easy to get on their good side. The plan was to capture Fort Ticonderoga. This would not only give these men extra weaponry, but it also linked between New York and Quebec, Canada's land. How Canada saw this, if he could get these men to his side, there will be safety for his people to escape from war, and possibly settle this mess quicker. The New Yorkers _certainly_ did not like where this war was going.

Canada, Benedict and the other 400 men camped and ate with the Green Mountain Boys. All this stress and aggravation over America made Canada hungry. He was happy to be able to eat a good hardy meal before setting off to fight.

"You excited?" Ethan asked.

"Sorta. It just seems so sudden. We just finished our war with France, and now we're fighting another war," Canada replied honestly. Ethan nodded steadily.

"It seems Colonial Arnold wasn't kidding about your age. You act like you've experienced the French and Indian War."

"I have... though, this is honestly the first time I started fighting in battle. I was in charge of delivering weaponry and first aid. My brother did the major battles."

"Ah. Is your brother fighting this war too?"

"I don't know... He was at Lexington and Concord, but I never heard from him since. I think he took this war pretty hard."

"Why do you say that? Is he a tori?"

Canada shook his head. America CERTAINLY wasn't a true _tori_, at least according to Canada. America was involved with the Boston Tea Party and everything. Granted, he defended the Redcoats during the Boston Massacre, but only because America wanted liberty for his people, not to start a fight. Though, now it was a bit too late to stop a fight now.

"Our guardian is a British general," Canada replied, smiling sadly. Everyone stopped eating, staring at the quiet boy with awestruck faces.

"Son of a turnip," one of the boys said allowed.

"You never told me that," Benedict said, his eyes filled with shock.

"It wasn't a big deal at the time. In fact, it was a great honor then... I thought it'd be rude for me to brag about something like that. Now, I think it's breaking our family apart. Alfred had been joining the protests, since he wanted to defend for his people. I tried staying out of it as much as I could... didn't want to get into a mess. Then, that yan... idiot went out there, and now he's gone and God knows where he's at now! So, here I am, having to fight the battle HE should be fighting," Canada explained, covering his face.

"Why are you fighting this battle?" Ethan asked, his eyes furrowed out of curiosity.

"Well... these people here are mine too. I don't like this war as much as the next gentleman, but I'm willing to do whatever it takes to keep everyone safe, patriot or loyalist. At this point, I can't count on England to protect us anymore."

"Very noble of you," Ethan nodded. "And, you're right, we can no longer count on England to protect us. All she's doing is making our lives worse, letting Yorkers take our land that belongs to us. We can't let that happen. This is OUR land, and we no longer need England's help to care for us. That's why we fight."

"Knowing your story, I can understand where you're coming from. I wish there was more I could do to help," Canada said meekly. Unfortunately, he wasn't in charge of this part of the land and was only helping to give an escape route for the civilians, while also providing weapons to the patriot soldiers that need it.

"You're already doing more than needed," Ethan winked as Canada smiled, then sighing.

It was 2 AM by the time everyone was already on their boats, sailing on their way to start the invasion on Fort Ticonderoga. There were only two boats for the armies in all. Each army took one boat, Canada joining in with Benedict Arnold and his men. At least it was warm out, despite the darkness of the night. This was also a small fort that England forgot existed up to this point. If there were any men in there, they were probably regulars.

This didn't stop the nerve-wrecking feeling Canada felt inside about capturing this fort. It was part of England after all. Though, Canada didn't want to fight with England. Sighing, Canada supposed he didn't have a choice anyways, so what was the point of feeling guilty?

_"We're almost there. I can already see it from here,"_ Benedict whispered to Canada, who nodded.

As soon as the boat landed at shore, Canada and Benedict led their group of 83 men to the south gate. Canada asking in a whisper,_"why here?"_

_"I fear we may've lost the element of surprise. It's wise to attack safely, than be attacked and sorry,"_ Benedict replied in a whisper as Canada nodded.

_"Got it."_

The two armies gained closer to the south gate, Canada peering from behind the tree he was hiding behind. He could clearly see that the fort was only guarded by one British guard. Canada practically snorted, knowing that England definitely didn't think anyone would capture this fort. It was in the middle of England owned territory after all. On top of that, he never would've thought a war between him and New England would ever start.

_"Matthew, what the bloody hell are you thinking, making noise like that?"_ Benedict whispered, his irritating temper rising.

_"This fort is ours. His majesty didn't prepare this particular fort. He's probably forgotten it. They've only got one guard and our men outnumber theirs. At this point, making noise or not will not matter. We can take it,"_ Canada smirked with pure confidence as Benedict rose his eyebrows, then peered to see the lone guard.

_"I already knew that, but I would like us _not _to lose the element of surprise, if we haven't already."_

_"Alright. Ready when you are."_

_"I'm ready,"_ Benedict said, then looked over at Ethan._ "Let's take down this fort."_

Ethan nodded, then gave his men the signal. At that moment, the two armies immediately attacked, taking out the guard, then bursting the doors to the fort open. All the regulars inside the fort looked up in wide shock, many of them drunk.

"I'd like some men with me to apprehend the Captain!" Canada shouted as two of Benedict's men instantly followed.

"Some of us are coming too!" A Green Mountain Boy said.

"Heh, we'd like to see the look on that Yorker's face when we wake him up from his bed!" Another Green Mountain Boy smirked as Canada showed one of his own in return.

Canada had to admit that he'd be lying, if he said he _didn't_ enjoy this. He and the soldiers that decided to join with Canada to apprehend the Captain of the fort, two of Benedict's men and four of the Green Mountain Boys. They quickly rushed up the stairs, many of the regulars holding their hands up in surrender, since they had no weapon or were too drunk. Canada could almost laugh at the idea of how easy it was to take this fort without firing a single shot. _America was sure missing out!_

Canada kicked the door open, the door flying off its hinges and across the room. Captain William Delaplace felt himself being dragged out of bed, then thrown out of his bedchambers.

"What is the meaning of-" Captain Delaplace shouted, then looked up with horror written on his face. "this?"

"We demand you to surrender this fort in the name of the great Jehovah and the Continental Congress!" Benedict commanded sternly.

_"You must be joking!"_

Canada took a hold of Captain Delaplace by the collar until their faces were only an inch from each other. He felt chills down his spine by the serious and deathly glare Canada gave him.

"This is war, Captain. That should've been made clear at Lexington and Concord! You should have known about that, so why didn't you and your lackeys _prepare_!? I know your kind! My brother would have your throats, if he saw this excuse for a military!" Canada shouted angrily, then threw the Captain at the four of the Green Mountain Boys. "Do what you want to this chien sale. Je m'en caliss."

"Wha'd he say?" One Green Mountain Boy asked.

"I don't know, but it sure sounded kinda funny. Let's send this _chien sale_ fella outta here!" Another Green Mountain Boy replied, all of them laughing as they threw Captain Delaplace, while he was still in his nightgown, out of the fort along with his men. After leaving, Captain Delaplace glared angrily and irritatingly.

"Watch your french!" Captain Delaplace shouted.


	5. Second Continental Congress First Day

**I was actually excited when I found out that the Second Continental Congress happened before Bunker Hill. I don't want to go into another battle before the Second Continental Congress happened. This is mainly when things start getting organized and you will get an idea of how America and Canada worked.**

**Keep in mind that there is no separation yet. This is 1775, so the separation of Britain and the 13 colonies haven't happened yet. I am very picky about that. Right now, the delegates are trying to figure out about defending themselves in the war against Britain and finding peaceful compromises. Yes, even during war, the colonies were still pleading for compromise with Britain. There were delegates supporting separation, as we will see in this fan fiction, but it was mainly those of the middle colonies. Those of the Northern and Southern colonies supported compromise. It wasn't until the British pushed them so far over the edge that things became desperate for separation.**

**EDIT: I had been making mistakes about the Olive Branch Petition. I think I've got it right now. I apologize for the continual changes.**

**I want to thank No Pain No Gain for translating my quotes for Canada to French. As of now, she is my official Canadian French translator. Translation will be at the bottom in bold. Review please!**

America sat inside the coach with George, wearing the suit Britain had given him to wear during the meeting with Parliament. He normally would wear his normal farmer's getup, being he felt it's unfair for him to dress richly in front of his poor people, who were in dept at the moment. Though, whenever he tried to place on his overalls, he kept hearing Britain's voice telling him he disapproved of it. It didn't matter anyways, being that he was meeting his delegates, who _always_ dressed properly. That and Martha would not leave America alone, if he got dressed in his usual farmer's outfit anyway.

George watched America with concern, knowing the stress the young boy carried. He smiled, then patted America on his shoulder. He slowly turned to face his friend.

"I'm sure Britain hates this war as much as you do. Maybe things will sort out," George said.

"How do _you_ know?" America asked almost bitterly.

"I don't."

America sighed, leaning against the seat he was on. His head was shot up, eyes staring at the roof of the coach. He knew George was trying to cheer him up the best of his abilities, even putting up with his rude remarks. Then again, George had grown used to America's rude remarks.

"It's amazing how you still look the same as the day we met in Ohio," George said, showing a small smile, as America looked at him with such a bored look. "I was a bit shorter, yet still taller and older than you." His smile grew slightly bigger. "An ambitious one I was. A bit cocky too."

America than smiled, saying, "you kept wanting to be better than me."

"Yes... of course, I didn't know you were... my country," George replied. He remembered the day he first met America, whom he had known as _Alfred_ at the time.

Alfred had looked the same age as now, 16. He was so young, yet strong as an ox. George remembered how envious he was at America's strength, determination and command he held. George was very ambitious and cocky at the time. He wanted to prove to be the best by driving the French out.

Unfortunately, it was also the time George learned a very hard lesson, which sparked the friendship between him and America. George had retreated to Fort Necessity, after being beaten by a larger French force. He had surrendered, deciding to sign a surrender agreement in the French language. America had tried warning him, offering to help him, since he knew French like the back of his hand. Though, George was arrogant at the time, wanting to prove to be the best commander that would never let an _immature youth_ best him at anything. It proved to be an embarrassment.

Despite this, America had still offered to help George redress his defeat, this time agreeing to allow his help. George remembered the great apology he gave America, admitting that he was a better commander than him and should be the one taking command. Despite this, America admitted he could not, since he was still young and told him that the best commander is someone that sees the best in each of those under him.

It had been during the war that George had eventually learned America being the embodiment of the 13 colonies. It was mainly due to America's strength and the years that went by when America never aged. George would notice the gray in his hair, yet America held non. His face had never matured, still staying as young as those was years ago.

The coach stopped, America sighing deeply. The coachman opened the door to allow the two men out. George was the first to walk out, followed by America. George paid the coachman before him and America walked on their way. They both walked down the side of the dirt street. America couldn't help, but glance at the Newspaper, which read about the Green Mountain Boys capturing a fort. His eyes widened, still glued to the paper. George took notice of this.

_"Canada is going to roast me alive,"_ America said, George taking him by the shoulder to move him along.

"We have to get to the congress meeting, America. This is the only way we can set up an organized military and figure out what we're going to do," George said as America rubbed his arm, taking a deep breath.

It felt almost a long time before America found himself right in front of Independence Hall. He took a deep breath, feeling a huge weight thrown on his shoulders. George looked at him with furrowed eyebrows.

"I'll catch up with you... I need to rest for a bit," America said as George nodded.

"We'll be waiting," George said before walking up the steps.

America leaned against the red bricked wall. He kept taking deep breaths over and over, while a bunch of older delegates made their way inside. Some of them waved to America with smiles. He smiled, then waved back. It was a lot of pressure he felt before coming in. He always needed the relaxation to prepare himself.

"Ah, Alfred. I was worried for you," Benjamin said, walking by.

"Hey Ben," America greeted.

"You selfish..." America heard Canada, who was furious at the moment. He quickly walked up to America. "I can't believe you, America! Leaving me to clean up _your_ mess! Tu trouves ça drôle, que j'aie à me battre à ta place, connard!?"

"I'm sorry, okay! I was under a lot of pressure!"

"Baiser mon cul! You got us into this mess, you-"

"Matthew, calm down. I know nobody understands what you're saying, but _please_ show some decency. You and America can take your bickering outside _after_ we're done with this meeting," Benjamin glared as Canada took a deep breath.

"Sorry," Canada apologized, then glared at America. He leaned close to America to where only they could hear.

_"Je t'ai pogné comme j'te voulais, mon esti."_

Canada angrily walked into Independence Hall as Benjamin sighed, shaking his head, while facepalming. He knew Canada didn't listen. He usually spoke French like that when he was angry, and _boy_ was he angry. America felt guilty for making Canada upset like that and making him go into war on his own.

"It's my fault. I should've helped Canada. We're both one in the same," America said quietly.

"I am actually thankful that you are okay. Where have you been for these passed few months?" Benjamin asked.

"I stayed with George, helping with the farm and all. I couldn't risk the regulars finding me."

"It still would help to send me or one of your delegates a letter."

"Yeah... sorry."

"Apology accepted, but war is upon us. You cannot afford to show weakness at a time like this."

"I know that. I... I'm just..." America said, covering his face, then sliding down the wall, sitting on the ground. Benjamin walked next to him.

"I know this is a lot of pressure placed on you. You maybe older than I, but your maturity is of youth. I was at your stage once in my life."

"I remember," America said, showing a sad smile.

"Though, you have us and your brother. Don't leave them to work for you, just because you can't handle the pressure. You must stand up and run your nation with Canada. If you keep leaving Canada to pick up your slack, you will not be able to provide for your nation and go into deeper debt than you're already in."

"I-I know..." America said, getting himself up. He stared at the open doors to Independence Hall, then back at Benjamin. "We best go. There's no time for chit chat when we're at war." America walked right inside the building as Benjamin smiled, straightening up his coat.

"Now, _that's_ what I'd like to hear from my future country."

America walked inside the room, sitting on the green cloth desk next to Canada, who was still angry. America really hated waiting for everyone to sit down. It always took so long to start and these meetings were so BORING. Still, this was part of his job as a country. He had to appear for these stupid meetings, especially when he was still a small colony.

_"Look, I'm sorry. Can you at least forgive me for this one meeting?"_ America asked in a whisper.

_"I'll cooperate with you for right now. Though, I'm still dealing with you after this,"_ Canada whispered as America nodded.

America bit his bottom lip, then rested his head on his hand, tapping the table with his index finger. Canada leaned against the chair, looking out the window. Even he got bored with these stupid meetings. The duo had tried finding ways of entertaining themselves in the past, but always got in trouble for them, especially during the First Continental Congress when Peyton shouted at the twins for flicking their fingers under the table. Of course, this gave the delegates, including good old Benjamin Franklin, a good laugh.

Canada blew the little curly strand of hair lying on his forehead, twiddling his thumbs. America sighed, then moved his feet right and left. Then, it gently tapped Canada's foot, making a quiet tapping sound. America scrunched his lips, lightly tapping Canada's foot again. Then, Canada tapped America's foot back, shooting a slight glare. America smirked, tapping Canada's foot again. Then, they both started tapping their foods against each other, Canada beginning to smile and chuckle.

"Can someone tell me why are there _children_ in this meeting!?" A man shouted, who was supposed to be a delegate of Georgia.

Canada and America both stood up straight quickly, both blushing at the same time as half the delegates chuckled. Everyone heard someone clear his throat, looking to see that it was secretary, Charles Thomson. He stood up in front of the congress, his back straight.

"It has come to my attention that our president, Peyton Randolph, won't be here this meeting, since he has been summoned by Virginia. Our new appointed president of this meeting will have to be decided by election," Charles declared.

"Phew!" America blurted out, then slapped his hand to his mouth, making some of the delegates chuckle and Canada blush, covering his face.

"Nice that you remembered to dress up this time, hm?" John Adams smirked directly at America as he responded by sticking his tongue at him before being elbowed by Canada.

"Owah!" America cried, glaring at Canada.

"Nations of New England!" Charles called out as America and Canada stood up, stepping forward, much to the new delegates' surprise, who were not around during the Continental Congress meetings last year.

"I am Alfred Jones, embodiment of the New England colonies from New York to Georgia! You may call me America too!" America introduced, holding his hand up. He then placed it down.

"I am Matthew Williams, embodiment of the New England colonies of Quebec and all of Canada. You may also call me Canada," Canada introduced, holding his hand up. He then placed it down.

"It is unfortunate that our former president, Peyton Randolph, cannot be here at the moment. So, our next president will be decided by election. This will work the same as before. Each of you will decide among yourself, depending on each party, who you want to nominate as president. Then, you will each vote on whom will take the seat as president of this Continental Congress," America explained.

"As before, I represent the Loyalist Party and America is for the Patriot Party," Canada explained.

"Are you expecting me to believe a couple of kids, that could be my sons, are actually the embodiment of New England?" The delegate of Georgia asked, looking almost outraged. Of course, America snorted, rolling his eyes, before being smacked by the back of the head and receiving a disapproving glare by Canada.

"Rest assure, this is no joke, Mr. Hall," Benjamin said with a simple smile. "I believe Mr. Alfred Jones and Matthew Williams were the same age and stature when I was still working in my brother's shop in Boston."

"I grew up with those two, since I was, but a lad," John Hancock assured, smiling at the boys. "They're a couple of rascals, Alfred mainly." This gave many of the delegates a chuckle or snort. "Though, they represent who we are and you can tell by looking at them. They are the hearts of New England."

"Thank you," Canada thanked, showing his brilliant smile.

"You're the best!" America grinned. Then, breathed out in relaxation. "So, let's get this election started, shall we?"

It eventually was decided that John Hancock would be the president of the Second Continental Congress. America was beyond relieved, being that he and Canada practically grew up with this guy. He was also the only delegate they had known since he was a child.

John Hancock was a wealthy merchant, raised from a wealthy aunt and uncle, who owned the successful shipping business. John had often met with Canada and America from time to time, who were of blue blood like himself since moving in with his aunt and uncle as a child. When John grew up, he and the twins connected very quickly. Then, John began realizing that he was maturing, while Canada and America stayed the same, making their relationship quite a mystery to crack.

The new delegates introduced each other, then the role call was made. This was the same procedure every Continental Congress meetings followed. After role was when the meeting would finally start.

"Alright, now that we have finished our role call _and America and Canada are no longer playing Tap-The-Toe_..." John Adams said, showing a devilish smirk during his last half of his sentence, which made half the delegates chuckle and the twins blush. "we can finally begin this meeting.

"British redcoats have walked onto our soil, led to believe they can take our armory, the only defenses we have! His majesty has kept us from going West, he has taxed us without representing us, and now he's attacked us on New England soil! I believe it's _obvious_ what needs to be done." John Adams had crossed his arms during his whole speech.

"Mr. Adams, we are Englishmen, are we not?" John Dickenson asked rhetorically. "I believe separation is a bit extreme. After all, we have always been part of Great Britain.

"And, America and Canada are only of youth. They need a guardian with them and Britain is more qualified than France and Spain combined. He is a good man and is well spoken. He has close contact with his majesty and knows how to talk to him," John Dickenson defended, then looking directly at America. "America, was it not _Britain_ that convinced his majesty to allow you to appear before Parliament?"

"It was," America replied.

"Despite my firm beliefs, I am not saying anything about _separation_. I believe it's clear as day that it's too extreme to place on the boys, for now," John Adams corrected as America lipped a thank you. "I am saying we should defend our land and set up a continental army. THAT I believe even the loyalists would agree with."

"He's right," Canada agreed.

"But we should also find a way to settle the matters with his majesty too. He's across the ocean, so I'm sure he doesn't know what's going on and I seriously want this war to end," America said.

"Would you like to sign a petition of some kind, America?" John Hancock asked.

"Yeah."

"I can agree with that, eh," Canada agreed, a smile filling his calm face.

"Those, who agree with this petition say yay!" John Hancock declared.

"YAY!" Almost the entire room shouting.

"Those, who don't agree, say nay!"

_"Nay!"_ A few of the delegates voted.

"Then, it is settled. Anyone want to nominate to writing this petition?"

A few of the delegates were nominated, but eventually the vote led to Thomas Jefferson. He had been one of the newly elected delegates. He had only just learned that Matthew and Alfred were the personifications of New England. He seemed quiet, but seemed promising. Alfred and Matthew were willing to give him a try. He seemed to show promise and John Adams was willing to look it over before it was presented to the delegates.

Unfortunately, there were still more issues to cover, besides _who_ was going to write this petition.

"There's still the issue with setting up an army, eh," Canada pointed out, gaining everyone's attention. "Being Britain isn't here to issue an army for us, we need to build an army for ourselves and I doubt if my brother and I's minute men are gonna be enough to take Britain's _force to be reckoned_."

"He's right. I was at Lexington and Concord. We were able to keep the English regulars from stealing our arms, but we risked the lives of our young incompetent boys. We need soldiers, men that can defend themselves against Britain's force!" America stated firmly, much to many of the new delegate's shock, which made Thomas Jefferson shake. "I'm sure Britain won't give it his best, being that he is fighting against own children, but that doesn't automatically mean he's not to be taken lightly." There was a pause, the room stood quiet. America stood up from his seat. "Canada, Colonial Arnold and the Green Mountain Boys have given us the supplies we need. It's time we set up our own army and train our boys. We don't have much and I'm only as trained in war as The French and Indian War, but I'd like us to give it our damn best!" America sat back in his seat.

"You both are right, though setting up a continental army will not be easy and it's not going to be given to us on a silver platter," John Hancock agreed, then looking at the twins with firm eyes. "You boys have a difficult assignment. You must raise enough money to set up an army, that means work. You will also have to keep the redcoats off our soil, that includes Britain."

"You cannot be serious!? Britain has always been welcome in their house and now you're commanding these boys to kick their _brother_ out of the house he raised them in!?" John Dickenson glared.

"Mr. Dickenson, maybe it hasn't occurred to you, but they ARE at war! They can't be caught dead drinking happily with any English regular or anyone of England, and that includes Britain himself. If he is going to have any time to talk with the boys, it will be in an organized peace conference, as unfair as it seems. Believe me, it pains me just as much," John Hancock said, then got up from his seat. "We will meet again next month on June 2nd and I want to see that petition ready and an organized fund for our army rising. DISMISSED!"

America sighed, covering his face. Canada got up from his seat and headed straight out the door. America hardly paid attention to when all the delegates left. He just needed some time to relax and think things through. He can no longer allow Britain to step into what was once _their_ home. At least Canada was still there, though was mad.

"America?" John Hancock asked with concern.

"Time for me to get to work," America said, getting up from his desk and taking his leave.

**Tu trouves ça drôle, que j'aie à me battre à ta place, connard!? - You think it's funny that I'm fighting your war, you asshole!?**

**Baiser mon cul! - Kiss my ass!**

**Je t'ai pogné comme j'te voulais, mon esti. - Your ass is mine, faggot.**


	6. The Battle of Bunker Hill

**Here it is folks, the Battle of Bunker Hill. It's one of the most important battles in the American Revolution. I originally was going to have just Canada battle this one, but then I decided it'd be better to have both boys. Keep in mind that, even though most of these men were probably patriots, there were loyalists that did side with the patriots out of loyalty. Anyways, review please!**

England sat in his quarters of the ship where he slept and wrote letters or documents. Usually, when he came to America, it was always for visitation purposes. Never had he thought he'd be coming to this place to attack his brothers. A part of England forgot that Canada was just as much involved, especially after hearing about the Invasion of Fort Ticonderoga. It didn't seem like America got himself involved in that, telling England that he probably didn't take the war too well, not that England could blame him.

"Heh, it's not like America should be surprised, after that blasted Boston Tea Party and all the other rubbish," England muttered to himself, staring at the blank paper in front of him that read, 'Dear America.' He had sent a letter to America early to warn him that he would be coming. Now, he was planning on sending another letter, but wasn't sure what to write, mainly because it consisted of England releasing his frustration.

There was a knock on the door, which made England's head snap up at attention.

"Yes?" England replied.

"General William Howe, sir!" William replied.

"Oh good! Please, do come in!"

General William Howe appeared from behind the door to England's quarters. He wore his red military uniform, black hat and a short powdered wig. England would've normally chosen a general with expert military strength, but he needed time to talk to the boys and find a way to stop this blasted war. He sent three army regulars to hopefully keep the continental army busy until he can find a way to resolve this issue. It was only over taxes, so England decided a good compromise with his colonies and boss would ease the tension and settle things. It wasn't like America to want to start a war, let alone separate from the one that raised, bathed, fed and trained him since a small child.

"So, do you have a plan?" England asked. He had thought maybe surrounding the colonists with ships. Of course, that would be _his_ plan.

"I am thinking of going uphill," General Howe purposed.

"My lord, if you don't mind me asking, why? Isn't it a bit risky? We are stronger at sea and I'm sure you remember how wonderful our record was on land during the Seven Year War."

"Do you honestly believe those yanks would dare to fight the British Empire?"

"Seeing as they did attack our men in Lexington, men young and old, yes. I have worked with some of these people before and they can be just as stubborn as we are."

"You should not fret, Arthur. They are colonists after all, farm men. What do they have against the British Empire?"

Arthur sighed, then nodded, "I do see your point and I do see victory in our midst. Though, I still find this risky. I hope you know what you're doing, my lord."

"I do," General Howe assured as England took the paper he never finished writing, then crumpled it up. General Howe grew curious at what England was writing, but kept the question to himself. It was improper of an Englishman to nose in other people's business.

* * *

"YOU IDIOT!" Canada yelled at America, hitting him over and over again with a long stick. "Criss, c'est quoi qui t'es passé par la tête!? We were supposed to camp at Bunker Hill, not _Breed's_ Hill! Do you not read directions or did visiting your _good pal Washington_ give you the brain of a pigeon!"

"I'm sorry, but Breed's Hill was closer, and Bunker Hill is so far away, and sooooooooo long to climb!"

"Gros con paresseux! Tu va t'en faire qu'à ta tête juste pour que sa soit plus facile de ton bord!? On va tous crever à cause de toi!" Canada shouted angrily.

"Would you stop speaking in French!? Even Louis speaks freakin' English and she's a French colony! Co'mon, Canada, it's not that bad of a loss! We can still see the location of where the Redcoats are going to attack anyways! We'll stand our ground, no problem."

Canada facepalmed, then seethed,_ "Je m'apprête sérieusement à embarquer dans une guerre, du bord d'une feignasse avec une armée paysans extrémistes armés de pioches, de pelles et de fusils. On est carrément foutus dans la merde."_

There was a long pause, then America's eyes widened, saying, "You're right, we're done for! _Oh my god! Oh my god! We're dead! We're dead!_"

"Get yourself together!" Canada shouted, punching America on the shoulder, which he responded with a painful yelp. "Now, despite this stupid plan of yours, let's at least make the best of what we've got, eh?"

"Yeah... you're right. But _dude_, your punches _really_ hurt," America mentioned before the curtains to the tent he and Canada were in opened.

"Ah, Mr. Williams and Mr. Jones. Pleasure to meet you two," An older man with black hair, wearing a brown hat upon his head along with a dark frock coat, wielding a sword.

"Colonial William Prescott!" America grinned, putting his hand out. "Pleasure to meet your acquaintance."

"The same," William replied, shaking America's hand, then Matthew's.

"I apologize for my brother's... um... laziness," Canada meekly apologized as America shot him a glare.

"This hill works just as good and we already have enough at Bunker Hill anyway. We must make the best of it, especially with these men. I'm just glad you two were able to gather them up, surprised too. You look awfully young. I must ask, how old are you?"

"16," the boys replied as William blinked.

"Wow... and you act very experienced in war... at least more than half of these boys, including myself. Maybe you should take in charge."

"Our brother was a major general during the French and Indian War, sir," America explained.

"Ah, I see. He must be proud of you two. I will meet you out front," William announced, leaving the tend.

America laughed bitterly, replying to himself,_ "Yeah right."_

* * *

The British ship had landed, all the soldiers gathering their weapons and supplies needed for their attack. England watched, his arms crossed, as General Howe commanded his men to stand in a formation with their coats glistering in the morning sun. England sighed slightly, staring toward the two hills that were ahead of where they were supposed to be. He marched to General Howe, who looked directly at him.

"My lord, I humbly ask that you let me be in charge of the ships and keep much of our men as backup for when things get rough. I feel it would be unwise to launch an attack without a backup plan for if the rebels surprise us like in Lexington," England asked.

"I highly doubt there will be any need for backup, but I do agree. It would be unwise to proceed without a backup plan. I will let you take in charge of the ship, its men and its cannons," General Howe replied.

"Thank you, my lord," England grinned happily, heading back to the ship he came from.

Taking a deep breath, he showed a pleasant smile. It was both the fact that he didn't have to be fighting his boys face to face and the fact he was better at war when it came to the sea anyway. This is where his best was at and he knew for sure he'd win this particular battle. He had the armory and the advantage. America and Canada were good with sea too, but they were battling on land, not sea. Not to mention the boys had yet to surpass England when it came to war on sea.

England made his way to his quarters and placed on his black pirate cap. He had mellowed down from piracy, since the Blackbeard incident. America used to be part of England's piracy, being he enjoyed the freedom and adventure of it. Then, Blackbeard took America hostage during a blockade at Charleston and it changed America's view on piracy, realizing that there was a difference between freedom and criminal activity. England mellowed on his piracy since then, seeing America's point on the matter.

England stepped out of his quarters, walking down to the bunker of the ship where his men were cleaning the cannons. They stood up at attention, waiting for England's command. England smirked, showing his teeth as the men scrambled to prepare the cannons. One of the most unique technique a nation had was _power_ over his people. They would do what the country said without a word spoken, depending on their loyalty. This was something England remember, his previous bosses King Charles I and James II had yet to learn. The loyalty all of Britain had for England was stronger. Even if they may not know Arthur was their country, their loyalty was as strong as it always has been for over a thousand years.

"I'll be taking in charge under General Howe's command to guard the ships. We'll prepare for when the rebels attack isn't strong enough for General Howe's army, and we must go in and fight. Our lord might have high hopes, but I will not allow _anyone_ to underestimate these rebels. You know what to do," England ordered.

"Yes, captain! Ready under your command, captain!" One of the soldiers replied.

"Then, prepare for battle."

* * *

"Now remember, don't shoot until you see the whites of their eyes! We cannot afford to waste any artillery! We only have limited supply!" William ordered the soldiers before much of the group rather stayed bellow the ditches they built or behind the tall grass. America, Canada and a few colonial soldiers marched behind a ditch they were to be shooting from at the front of the fort. It wasn't much of one, but it was the best they had.

_"Dammit,"_ America whispered, holding his musket tightly in his hands, which was retrieved from Matthew's invasion with Benedict Arnold and the Green Mountain Boys.

_"Stop it, America. We cannot afford to lose,"_ Canada replied quietly.

_"I know,"_ America sighed, hating the sweat from the sun above his head. It had already been passed lunch time at this hour.

The British troops, command under General Howe, began marching near Breed's Hill, trying to take the Charlestown Peninsula. America, Canada and the others were hiding beneath the tall grass with their work outfits, being they didn't have official uniforms. This was a wise idea, in America's mind, since they were hidden very well. He had high hopes that they may have a chance to beat this many soldiers. These men were too flashy in their red coats to come out unnoticed. Not to mention America remembered how hot and heavy wearing those things were. He got tired easier during the French and Indian War.

Canada took an aim with his rifle and fired at the obvious leader or general of this group, making him fall off his horse. Bullets began flying, the British trying to aim for the patriots, which seemed difficult and impossible. America grinned, shooting with his musket to take out some soldiers from among the ditch and tall grass ahead.

"Nice shot, bro!" America shouted among the loud bangs ringing in his ears.

"GUARD ME!" Canada yelled, ducking bellow the grass to reload his rifle from behind the ditch.

"What do you think I'm doing!?" America snapped, quickly reloading his musket before firing again at other British Soldiers.

Suddenly, America spotted a rustle among the grass ahead, over the ditch, and he dropped his musket quickly to get his shovel, which collided with the soldier's sword. In a mere second, America cut through the soldier's neck with the tip of his shovel. Bullets were still flying as America scrambled to get any bullets for his musket. He also took his bayonet as the soldier choked in his blood.

_"May God have mercy,"_ America whispered before shoving the bayonet into his heart and there was no breath.

"AMERICA!" Canada cried, fighting against a couple of British Soldiers that were right next to the ditch with his sword. He's always been the one good at sword fights, compared to America.

America took his shovel, hitting and slashing every single soldier with a red coat until they were down with red liquid spilled from their necks, mouths and noses. There was dark red stains on America's white shirt and overalls, darker red on his shovel. He could notice some red droplets on Canada's face, followed by patches of dirt. The boys looked at each other for a millisecond before running from the dead soldiers.

The twins began running back to the ditch where the other men were. America stayed behind, trying to figure out how to get the other men to wait for a while before firing. He looked at them and they looked back at him, instantly crouching down behind the ditch of protection.

"They're aiming to take over Charlestown. We have to keep sniping them. They only know a gentleman's war!" America shouted.

"We're ready when you are, sir!" One soldier said, much to America's surprise. He was sixteen and looked premature too, surely nobody would take him this seriously!

"Just keep shooting. If we go head to head, use the skills you know you have. They're an easy target," Canada said.

The soldiers hesitated quietly at first, then looked at America, who seemed very sure. They nodded with strong confidence. Everyone began firing more at the British in their flashy red coats, staying in their position. Canada aimed and fired at the British with his rifle. The others tried doing the same with their muskets.

"Wait, muskets work differently than our usual guns. Don't aim with your eye, aim with the nozzle. If a redcoat runs toward you, attack him with your bayonet at the tip of it," America advised.

The colonial soldiers did what America said and killed more British troops. They eventually retreated after a while and they all got up from their ditches, shouting joyfully at their victory.

"Yeah, you go run like the bunch of sissies you are, damn tories!" The soldiers cried out.

"Don't celebrate yet. They don't give up that easy," America warned the men.

"You seem trained. How'd you learn about what to do in war?" One man asked.

"My brother taught me during the French and Indian War."

"He must be mighty proud of you."

"He's a British soldier," Canada mentioned as the men grew quiet.

* * *

England stood by the ships with more troops, watching in boredom as General Howe and his men retreated from the front. General Howe seemed to be wounded, which was not a surprise for England. He walked to General Howe, looking at one of his men that knew patching up wounds.

"Those rebels act savage!" General Howe shouted angrily.

"Gorilla Warfare, I assume?" England asked as the general looked up in shock.

"Yes..."

"These colonists are farmers. They _will_ use skills we don't know. They have the power of camouflage, hunting and especially Gorilla Warfare. There's a reason we needed their help during the French and Indian War. I will be taking command by your side, if that is alright with you, my lord."

"That would be grateful of you. What do you suppose?"

"Since it's too late to surround them with our ships, we will keep going, but we will think smartly. We have a huge disadvantage, but the rebels have a limited supply of ammunition. I have the cannons ready to fire. I will take in charge of the cannons and you take in charge on firing the rest of the soldiers. We'll let them use their ammunition."

"I will take that plan. I like it."

"Of course, I will need two things, besides the usual: a hot cup of tea on a saucer and a rifle."

"You must be mad! You cannot fire with those! They take longer to load and-"

"Are good for sharp shooting. I love a gentleman's war, but I've learned a long time ago that you fight fire with fire. We cannot win this war, unless we break a rule or two in our _gentleman's war_. Besides, if we did not break a rule or two, we wouldn't have become the mighty empire, now would we?"

"I've got your tea, captain," a soldier said, appearing with a small cup of tea on a saucer and a rifle.

"Ah, good. Very good," England smirked, wielding the gun, then taking the tea. He took a sip. "I am in a good mood today."

* * *

It was the second wave of British troops and all of the patriots were dying my the hundreds, perhaps thousands. America couldn't tell and neither could Canada. They were hiding behind a ditch, their ammunition running low. America knew it was a matter of time before he had to use combat. Until then, he was sticking with sniping, including Canada. They seemed to be taking out a lot of soldiers.

"Alfred, how are you doing?" William asked, crawling on the ground with his musket.

"Fair," America replied.

"These kids are amazing!" One of the soldiers cried.

"We're losing a lot of men unfortunately," William panted, shooting at several British.

"I know!" America greed before watching a cannonball flying right over them. _"Oh my god!"_

"Don't worry, the second wave is almost gone."

"It's only going to get worse," Canada panted, peeking up from the ditch.

"Help! We need some tending!" One of the three patriots cried, the middle being severely wounded.

"Give him to me!" Canada offered, patching the wounded up as gunshots were swarming all over the hill.

"Keep firing!" America cried out as the others kept doing what they were doing. Some of the patriots were deciding to use hand to hand combat.

The second wave eventually retreated, much to America's relief, before realizing that his group were out of ammo.

"What should we do?" The men asked.

"We'll use whatever we've got on hand," America declared, getting out his shovel.

"I'm going where you're going!" William declared.

"But you're the captain. You should help within the boundary lines," America said.

"I am not British. I don't hide behind those fighting behind their soldiers. I'm an American and I fight for my country," William promised.

"As the rest of us, sir," the other men promised.

America felt something inside him, something he had never felt during the French and Indian War. There seemed to be _power_. He had power and influence over these men, who chose to stand behind him, not Britain or Canada. America showed a serious glare, giving a nod before running out with Canada beside him. America could feel power within his blood.

Several redcoats came and attacked with swords. America fought with everything he had with his shovel as his main weapon. Canada slashed a few of them with his sword, while the other men used pitchforks, shovels or their bayonets. This third wave was killing more of America's men and he could feel it. His group still stood together to protect the fort. Though, even that wasn't enough.

Suddenly, William was shot from his chest, falling to the ground with blood gushing from his mouth.

"Will!" America cried out, seeing more of his group falling to the ground and blood gushing like a river from their bodies.

"America, we've done all we can do!" Canada cried out, as America trembled, then let his brother grab his hand and run out.

America looked back, seeing his men that were still alive following him. He was already seeing more dead bodies of those that gave their lives for him. America could already feel the weight building up to the point of making him choke tears. He couldn't take this! Th-This was too much!

Just then, they all came across another group of British Soldiers. They were about to fight until they were pulled back by the piercing green eyes that were behind the more noticeable Redcoat in the middle. They looked directly at the twins, both splattered with blood and dirt on their clothes, faces and arms, signaling for them to run home.

"Why'd you let them get away?" Asked one of the British Soldiers.

"It seems I can't find it within myself to shoot a family member of minem, even at war," England replied sadly.

**Criss, c'est quoi qui t'es passé par la tête!? - What the fuck were you thinking?**

**Gros con paresseux! Tu va t'en faire qu'à ta tête juste pour que sa soit plus facile de ton bord!? On va tous crever à cause de toi! - You big lazy idiot! You're following your own orders, because it's easier for you!? We're all going to die thanks to you!**

**Je m'apprête sérieusement à embarquer dans une guerre, du bord d'une feignasse avec une armée d'extrémistes armés de pioches, de pelles et de fusils. On est carrément foutus dans la merde. - I'm seriously about to embark war, alongside a lazy dumbass and his army of hillbillies with armed picks, shovels and rifles. We're fucking screwed.**


	7. Continental Postal Service

**Something to keep in mind, the Continental Congress did go over other issues other than what's presented in documents. I would think the ones that are mentioned are one of them, since this was a big concern. Even Liberty's Kids have the delegates mention some of this as an issue. **

**Also, I couldn't find No Pain No Gain anywhere, telling me his account had been banned or something. I don't know. Anyways, now Ms. Atomic Bomb will translate Canada's french. Thank you Ms. Atomic Bomb. Quiet Harmony Chan hasn't responded to me for a month, so R****osesofenvy will be checking my chapters for historical accuracy. Thank you Rosesofenvy. ****Review please!**

"That was a disaster!" A delegate from Maryland, Robert Goldsborough, shouted, hammering his fist on his desk.

Everyone in congress stood in silence until John Adams stated, "what do you expect? Our men are hardly experienced."

"Weren't these two supposed to gather a continental army? Then again, what should I expect from children?" Richard Caswell mentioned, folding his arms.

"Hey, we're doing the best we can! Despite our disadvantage, we were able to get over a thousand lobster backs!" America shouted from his desk.

"We wouldn't be in this situation, if you hadn't been so reckless at Lexington, you dumb yankie," Canada glared.

"Oh, and you're _not_ just as much at fault!? You're the one, who thinks we should kiss King George's ass!" America glared, immediately pinning Canada to the desk by his collar.

"How about you control your big fat mouth!"

"At least I don't cover it in French, damn tori!"

There was a loud bang from a small hammer to the gavel, making the boys stop dead in their tracks. John Hancock glared, "that will be enough out of you two! I think it is wise to stop acting like savages and act like gentlemen."

Canada got up from the desk, then him and America sat back down on their chairs, scowls written on their faces. John Hancock sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose with his thumb and index finger. Slowly, sitting back down, he folded his arms.

"Despite our loss, America is right. We proved that we can take on British might. That being said, we will need to organize a continental army as we speak. We need you boys to work on that before we face another battle. Do I make myself clear?" John Hancock asked.

"Yes sir," America and Canada replied together.

"If I can have a moment, there is an urgent matter I want to clear up, specifically about our postal service. We're having issues with tories rummaging through our letters. One of them was a personal letter to my friend James Warren and I received News that it had been stolen by the damn tories. No doubt to spy on our important matters having to do with the war," John Adams mentioned. John Dickinson seemed to be a little pissed.

"THIS IS AN OUTRAGE!" The New England brothers shouted at the top of their lungs, bringing all of congress into silence.

"J'ai essayé d'ecrire à Britagne et et je l'ai même pas reçu une putaine lettre de lui! Maintenant, son maudit patron entrera dans les problèmes qui sont privé! Je voudrais voir sa réaction si je regardias ses lettres à Angleterre ou ses enfants maudits,**" **Canada shouted in full anger mode.

"Glad you're on my side, bro. I'm sick and tired of these damn tories thinking they can do whatever the hell they want, excuse my language. I haven't heard anything from Arthur ever since the damn war started and it hurts! I can't even tell him, if I'm dead or alive without that damn Gage looking into my letters! They're personal!" America spoke with determination mixed in with a bit of frustration and anger.

"I fear that my letters were taken as well," George Washington with such calmness in his speech.

"This is, indeed, very problematic. We've been having troubles with our postal service. In the past, we could trust the British controlled mail service, but with tensions rising, it seems we cannot. We're having to create hidden postal services to protect our mail and now the British are getting into them," Benjamin said, nodding his head. He looked at the boys. "I am very sorry for your distress."

"It's bad enough I can't allow Britain into my house, now those tories are rummaging through my mail? _Cowards!_" America spat.

"I know the Regulars are doing their job, but taking advantage of the people like that is just savage," Canada said with a humph.

"Do you boys have any suggestions?" John Hancock asked as the boys gave each other glances, then nodded.

"Since he previously worked at the British Colonial Post, we'd like to appoint Benjamin Franklin to be in charge of our new Continental Postal Service. This one will be designed to not fall into any British hands, unless the letters belongs to them," America suggested.

"It will be my honor, America, Canada," Benjamin accepted, nodding in appreciation.

"For our letters, we'd like them to be handled by someone most trustworthy. The letters by our wonderful delegates should be kept secret, but the British soldiers get their hands on America's and I's letters, it could mean complete control of these colonies.

"As a loyalist, I do believe in our loyalties to never break toward his majesty, but I refuse to let any human take advantage of us. I'm not saying this to prove to my brother that I'm not, in his own words, _kissing King George's ass_. I'm saying this, because I am of English blood. Britain's bosses have been trying to place him under his thumb for years, even while America and I were small children. I've seen the scars on his back, the painful look on his face when he told us he beheaded Charles I. I've learned from him that a man that lets those push him around is no man at all. He cannot even call himself British," Canada said before sitting down quietly.

"Your letters will be in good hands. Thank you for your speech," Benjamin replied as Canada smiled.

"For our next meeting, we will discuss about our continental army and who will take in charge," John Hancock said, hitting the small hammer on the gavel.

* * *

"This has been a disaster!" Britain cried, covering his face.

"We have control over the Charleston Peninsula. I should think that is _something_, huh Arthur?" General Howe said, trying to cheer his friend up. At the moment, he was bandaged up from being sniped on the shoulder during the first wave.

"Yes, but we lost so many of our men, good men. On top of that, I haven't received one bloody letter from my boys. What am I going to do, William? I can never see them and I worry for them constantly!"

"I wish I could say," General Howe sighed, shaking his head. Then, it perked up. "Didn't you say you saw them with the rebels on Breed's Hill?"

"Yes, during the third wave. They were retreating, after I shot their leader. I'm sure they must've been overwhelmed by the situation at hand. There was absolutely no ammunition and all I found was a couple of old bayonets, swords, pickaxes and shovels inside the fort. I must say, I'm impressed with their strength for a bunch of unorganized yanks. We must watch out for that."

"General Howe! Lord Kirkland!" Arthur heard someone, whom he would recognize from a mile away.

"Come in!" Arthur called out as a man in red military uniform and long-haired powdered wig appeared inside the tend, taking a bow. "Thomas Gage, it is a pleasure to meet you again!"

"All the same, my lord. How long has it been? The French and Indian War?" Thomas grinned, shaking Arthur's hand.

"I also hear about you being Massachusetts' Military Governor."

"Yes. Things have been growing difficult lately. What, with the rebels causing a ruckus. It's been an absolute mess."

"I know..." Arthur replied, piercing his lips. "How's my boys?"

Thomas' smile turned to a frown, sighing, while shaking his head. He replied, "Matthew has been good, but I can't say the same for Alfred. He _refuses_ to listen to reason. They also will not allow me to see the boys, especially with the mess at Bunker Hill."

"It's the same here. I cannot see my boys either," Britain admitted, nodding sadly. He smiled. "I want to thank you for your help in sending us recruits to capture Charleston. Hopefully, we'll be able to capture Boston as well."

"I will be glad to help, my lord."

_"Lord Kirkland!"_ Britain heard someone call him, which was from a voice of a young woman.

"Would you excuse me?" Britain asked politely before walking out the tent. He saw a beautiful young English girl with long red hair in a ponytail and a blue dress. "Good afternoon, my lady." She offered her hand and Britain kissed it. "How may I help you?"

"I have an important letter for you, sent by the new Continental Postal Service," the lady said, offering three letters to Britain, which he took into his hand. His eyes widened, then gasped quietly when he saw _whom_ they were from. One was from an Alfred Jones, the other from a Matthew Williams, the last from a Benjamin Franklin.

"Thank you very much, madam. I am truly grateful for this."

"You are very welcome," the girl replied before leaving on her way with a bag full of mail. Since she was sending an urgant letter to Arthur Kirkland, non of the British Soldiers bothered her.

Britain smiled as he walked back into the tent, opening America's letter to him first. William and Thomas were chatting about war and military tactics. Britain continued reading, his eyebrows slowly showing a crease at the top bridge of his nose. He then read Canada's letter. His eyebrows rose, biting the corner of his lip, then his eyebrows showed a crease again. He read Benjamin Franklin's letter last, which was very short, telling him about the new postal service.

"Thomas..." Britain said emotionlessly as Thomas turned with his eyebrows raised. "Do you know anything about the issues with the postal service?"

"Not really, my lord. Why?" Thomas asked.

"I've just received a letter from my boys, as of now, telling me that some of your men have been rummaging through their letters, being why I haven't received them-"

"Lord Kir-"

Britain put his palm up, saying, "let me finish..." Thomas shut up, knowing too good and well from his time at the French and Indian War to _never_ say anything, while Britain was talking. "I understand that this war has led to so much confusion and the rebels have put you in a corner, especially during the Boston Massacre. BUT, I will not tolerate any abuse toward my charges. Now, tell me the truth, General Gage, and I _might_ show you mercy. Are your men responsible for me not receiving letters from my boys?"

Thomas grew quiet, sweat trickling down his face. He replied, clearing his throat, "My men... have been sending me copies of all the letters from the British Colonial Post to find out what the rebels are planning. I have a reason to believe the rebels plan to separate themselves from England. It's for the good of the country, I assure you.

"In doing this, my men may've taken letters that belonged to your boys that were to be sent to you and vice versa. I promise we never looked at those, only the ones that belonged to the ones listed as delegates."

SLAP!

The sound startled William, making him tremble as he witnessed the noticeable red mark upon Thomas' cheek. Britain's arm was slowly returning to his side with an expression that would make a hyena speechless. There was no emotion behind those piercing green eyes. It made General Howe think of his father, as a kid, when he was being punished.

"I will not hear of this again, General Gage. You and your men took advantage of my two colonies. Those letters, to me, are the only things we've got to prevent separation. Maybe Alfred should've mentioned to you that him and Matthew were embodiments of New England, but that is still no excuse for your crime. We are the influence of our people and Alfred's distress is the reason much of New England is in distress right _now_. You want to prevent separation? Leave our bloody letters out of your bloody hands or so help me, you will find yourself hanged before you can sing God Save the Queen!" Britain stated before storming out. He was not pissed. He understood why General Gage did what he did, but it still hurt that it came from his own.

**_J'ai essayé d'ecrire à Britagne et et je l'ai même pas reçu une putaine lettre de lui! Maintenant, son maudit patron entrera dans les problèmes qui sont privé! Je voudrais voir sa réaction si je regardias ses lettres à Angleterre ou ses maudits enfants._ \- I've been trying to write to Britain and haven't received one letter from him! Now, that damn boss of his is going to nose into personal family matters! I'd like to see how he likes it if I looked into his letters to England or his damn kids.**


	8. The Continental Army

**Here's the next chapter. Sorry for taking a while to post. I was sick, then I spent a week, then two weeks without my computer. Anyways, I'm back and continuing the story. Review please!**

"I am sorry to say this, but your language is too offensive," John Adams said disapprovingly, looking through Thomas Jefferson's drafted petition. At the moment, John Adams, the New England brothers and Thomas Jefferson were in Thomas' house in the living room.

Thomas looked at Canada and America. Canada bit his bottom lip as America claimed, "he's got a point."

"America, how are you supposed to tell his majesty that you don't like his laws without rebelling or disrespecting him? You're contradicting the king and you're hoping he will not be _offended_. Why can't you just abide and pay the darn taxes? We can work with the trade and the... markets. We can scrounge up enough money to pay off our war debt," Canada pleaded, taking America's hands.

"If we do that, we will be ignoring the big problem in our colonies. I'm not going to put them in anymore distress than they already are. We need England's help and we're not going to solve these problems, if we kiss his majesty's feet and ignore the big problems we're still having."

Canada sighed, muttering, "I know."

"So, what do you boys think?" Thomas asked as the twins turned to him, then gazed back at each other.

"John D. could look over it? I mean he is our strongest, loyalist supporting delegate. Who better to revise a peaceful petition to our king than him?" America suggested.

"You mean _Mister _Dickenson?" Canada asked, showing a disapproving facial expression as America sighed and rolled his eyes at his brother.

America and Canada worked very well with John Dickinson. In fact, he was one of the ONLY delegates to work with America, Canada and Britain, not just one or two of the brothers.

As a young man, John Dickinson spent four years learning the London court system overseas. There, he was mentored by non other than Arthur Kirkland, aka England. John became sharp in the relationship between history and politics. He also became fascinated in Arthur's job working under the king that made the government work so perfectly, despite not knowing Arthur was the embodiment of England at the time. Before returning to Philadelphia to practice law, like England had suggested, he told John to look out for Alfred Jones and Matthew Williams, promising that John would learn more from them.

Eventually, John Dickinson met both boys in two different colonies. He met Alfred F. Jones in Pennsylvania when elected Pennsylvania Assembly, and Matthew Williams at Delaware when elected as the legislature and Speaker of the House of that colony. What shocked him wasn't that they were twins with different last names or that they were the embodiment of New England. It was their youth and how they did things. It was the complete opposite, yet similar, to how things were done in England, which was more professional and organized. America was especially hard to understand with how he ran things with his colonies.

After John Dickinson's disappointing loss over the debate of not replacing the Pennsylvania's Proprietary Charter with the Royal Charter, America came to his house and talked with him personally. Much to John's shock, America and Canada also disagreed with replacing the Charter. John asked America curiously why he and his brother let their people change the Charter to one that undermined Quaker Liberties. America answered in the most brilliant way that John swore made him look older than himself,

_"Liberty isn't just about giving your view of liberty. You must also give the people the freedom to make mistakes and learn from them. A country cannot stand under one individual. In God's eyes, we are all sinners doomed to hell. We cannot stand under a king, religion created by men or a government created by dead people. We must stand united as one nation. Even the mighty British Empire cannot stand under England. He needs Scotland, Wales and North Ireland to unite without tyranny, just like I need Canada to make sure I don't do something stupid."_

John Dickinson, from that day forward, began understanding the true meaning of liberty and how important it was for America. More importantly, he understood that without America's unity with England and Canada, he would fall on his own. He believed in liberties for the people, but also that it could mean living under rules he may not agree with when everyone else did. These beliefs were the reason he was highly against separation of New England and England. Separation would mean the fall of the colonies.

Seeing how the twins were acting towards one another, Thomas wasn't sure how to react. This was the first time he saw the New England brothers in a non business environment. America looked up at Thomas and smiled, chuckling a bit. Thomas began chuckling himself.

"We really are young, aren't we?" Thomas asked as the twins burst out laughing.

"We are, indeed, Thomas," Benjamin agreed, appearing with John Hancock. They had just entered into the living room, being that they were with the group to discuss what to do about the Olive Branch Petition.

"We hear there was a problem with the Olive Branch Petition?" John Hancock asked.

"John says some of Thomas' words are too offensive," America replied. "I suggested maybe John D. should look it over. What do you think, Johnny?"

"I will take the petition and see what the delegates say during our next meeting," John Hancock replied with a smile of his own as America grinned.

"You gotta stop with the informal nicknames," Canada said.

"Dude, we've got too many Johns in our Continental Congress. It's gotten to the point where the name of our strongest patriot and loyalist supporter are John. I'm keeping the nicknames," America pointed out offhandedly. "Besides, they don't mind me calling them that."

"So, I suppose his majesty doesn't mind you calling him _Georgie_?" Canada asked as everyone, except John Hancock and Benjamin Franklin, rose their eyebrows.

"Give me a break! The first time I met him was during War of the Austrian Succession!" America pouted as Canada facepalmed.

"He was 7, you hoser!"

"If I may change the subject, have you and Canada made any plans regarding our Continental Army?" John Adams asked.

"Aside from our vote on George Washington leading the army, we haven't heard anything about it. Though, I've heard that we've got a good number that we're willing to pay good money for. The army should be starting training tomorrow," Canada replied.

"I'm kinda worried about him. He seemed uneasy about it, especially from being away from Martha. I think I may've given him too much pressure on the matter," America admitted, biting the corner of his lip.

"You did nothing wrong, America. George is only acting humbly about taking his position. It is only right that anyone taking a leadership position should take it with humility and not with pride," Benjamin pointed out.

"If there's anyone that can train these inexperienced, redneck tools, it's George Washington. Though, I'm still not sure how this army will stand a chance against a trained British military," Canada said, sighing.

"It'll be enough to defend our land until we can get Georgie to listen to reason," America replied.

"If that _ever_ comes," John Adams hummed. A servant happened to come to the men, pouring their coffee.

"Thank you, maim," America thanked the servant as she smiled and nodded. Canada just sighed secretly. Compared to America, Canada strongly disapproved of slavery existing in the colonies.

"I'm sure his majesty will see reason, once the Olive Branch Petition is done," Canada said with a hint of uncertainty.

"One thing is for sure, we're not going to separate from England. I mean why waste money on petty problems, after facing the French and Indian War?" America declared as if that was his ultimate goal.

"If I may, could I talk to you boys alone?" John Adams asked as America and Canada nodded at the same time, and followed him to another room. "I'm not sure how long I can take watching these colonies go into madness."

"I'm sure everything will be fine," America assured as Canada nodded in agreement.

"How can we be so sure? You both know his majesty isn't going to bother reading that petition. This war is enough proof that no one in England is going to listen to either of you. Not the king, not the parliament, not anyone. You know what happened with Benjamin Franklin, after the Boston Tea Party. He was trialed for Treason," John said.

"I understand you support separation, and what happened with Benjamin was awful and highly unfair, though separation isn't going to solve anything. If anything, it might make it worse for us with more taxation laws being put into place. Parliament will certainly not listen to us, if we keep acting like savages, and that's probably why Georgie isn't listening to us in the first place," America pointed out.

"Not to mention Britain has always helped us. America's right, we need him to keep these colonies alive. If we separate from Britain, we'll never be able to improve our colonies and will end up angering his majesty even more," Canada said.

"You say that, but are you both aware that Britain hardly pays visits to either of you to claim that you both _couldn't_ live independently? What I'm saying is why depend on England's help when England isn't giving either of you boys any?" John asked rhetorically.

"He does help us!" America argued.

"Don't lie to me, America. You told me that your brother has always let you be on your own and do whatever you want. He spoils you more than the average parent, including my own. From the beginning, you were on your own. It is _England_ that needs _you_. He gets his profits and benefits from the both of you and now, when you ask for his help, he is not giving you any."

"You don't know that! Britain says he's trying and it's hard for him to control what his people do! As nations, we don't have complete control over what goes on! Just give Britain time, he'll come around!"

"How long? The clock is ticking and you boys will eventually have to make a decision. No one in Great Britain is going to help you as far as I can see. We can try finding more ways to gain respect from his majesty, then lose this war and plummet to our doom in the hands of tyranny, or you can declare yourself independent. At the very least, you will get help from the other countries that are willing to donate to our cause."

"John, we can't just separate from Britain! We can't be a country! We don't even know how it works! The only thing we know how to do is grow crops, trade, build, a bit of mining and a bit of governing. We cannot come close to what Scotland, Wales and Ireland can achieve. We don't even have a military of my own to save our lives. How do you expect us to separate from Britain when we've got nothing!?" America argued.

"I was your age when I went to Harvard, achieving towards my goals that were not my father's. Benjamin was close to the same age as you boys were when he ran away from home and became successful on his own without the help of his parents or older brother.

"America, Canada, you boys have potential to be countries. You're farmers, but you're also intelligent and think independently. You will learn that many of the things we learn in life is through experience. Say what you want about Britain. I'm not saying he's a bad man or even the worst brother. He is certainly a better older brother and guardian than most I've seen, but he is holding you back. He might not realize it, but he's using you both for his own gain, for his own _country_, not anything for _your_ benefits. You are his brothers, but you're also his colonies, territories that exists to profit for the good of the mother country. No more, no less.

"The longer you boys linger under the wing of Great Britain, the more trapped you will be and held back from achieving your true potential. It's proven that England no longer considers you both English citizens. He may think he does, but history says otherwise. You both have created different accents, cultures and beliefs that are far from Britain. The distance from you both to England is great and I doubt his majesty would have decided to write these taxes without representation, if it had been Ireland or Scotland. Britain cannot fully represent you like he can with his brothers. You are not _kingdoms_, you are colonies.

"At some point in time, you're going to have to grow up and separate from the wing of your older brother," John said.

"Perhaps, if Britain says otherwise, we might, but we will not separate from Britain as long as we have war," Canada argued, America agreeing.

"Very well. I have no more to say," John said, returning back with the others as Canada glared at the floor, his arms crossed. America sighed, then patted Canada's back before they returned to the living room with the others.

* * *

The next day, America and Canada began helping their soldiers train for war. There were many men that were not willing to listen to the boys, let alone take them seriously. In the Battle of Bunker Hill, America was the first everyone listened to, but training was a different story. George Washington, being well respected, was the man everyone would rather listen to than these boys. Even so, listening was still a chore and they needed discipline.

"You're not supposed to hold your gun like that. We're talking muskets not-" America said before being pushed by one of his trainees.

"Why the hell should we listen to you, boy?" The training soldier asked.

"Who do you think you are, General Washington? You look the same age as my son!" One guy mocked.

"I bet he is! He's the same age as my daughter's fiance!" the other guy smirked.

"Please, stop this. I know we're young, but we were sent by Gen-" Canada said before being picked up off the ground by three soldiers-in-training.

"I know this one! This one's a Tori!" One of the guys picking Canada up said.

"What the hell is a Tori like you doing in the Continental Army! Go back to Britain where you belong!" The other guy shouted about to throw Canada to the ground before they all heard a gunshot and froze still, slowly turning their heads to George Washington.

"I don't tolerate stiff necked soldiers. Now, I will ask you to put the boys down and listen to them. They are second in command under me and their youth will not make you into a bunch of uncivilized dogs. Do I make myself clear?" George said sternly.

The soldiers said, "yes sir" and "sorry sir" before putting down Canada and the twins stood on the right of George Washington. This was certainly not a good start on the first day of training. The twins knew this was going to be a long day.

"You're kidding, right? I'm not getting paid to be taught by two kids how to fight," A soldier said.

"Then, you can leave. I am willing to pay good money for you to fight for this cause, but if you're not willing to listen to some helpful wisdom from these two boys, then I suppose freedom doesn't hold that much worth to you as you say."

The soldiers stayed quiet after that with several complications that still existed. At the very least, they were _willing_ to listen to what America and Canada had to teach them, even if it was like pulling teeth. Nobody wanted to take the boys seriously, due to their age and the fact Canada was a loyalist. The boys didn't want to make themselves seem bossy and, as a result, it was incredibly hard to control their Continental Army.

After training the army, the boys went to their tent to rest. America groaned and rested himself on his cot beside Canada. George entered into their tent, sitting himself on the stool in front of the table. He placed on his spectacles before writing a letter to his wife, Martha. It was quite inside the tent, especially considering how tired the boys and George were. Canada was about ready to fall asleep.

America sighed, then looked at George before turning to his brother, smirking, "hey Canada, want to try on my spectacles?"

"Too tired. Need sleep," Canada moaned.

"You're no fun," America pouted, turning to George. "What about you, George."

"I'm writing a letter to my wife," George replied plainly.

"Humph, you certainly have lost your youth. You thought it was funny trying on my spectacles during the French and Indian War," America responded earning him a slap from Canada at the back of his head. "Hey!"

Suddenly, America had spectacles shoved into his face by George himself, which looked a bit weird and fuzzy. He responded, "yeh!" as George laughed at the response America made. He laughed with his friend, lightly pushing him. "You rat! You never change, dude!"

"You more so. You still got your teeth and hair," George said.

"Well yeah, because my hair is too good for a powdered wig," America said, taking George's wig and placing it on his head before making his accent sound English. _"How dare thee insult his majesty with thy presence! It is an outrage, I say! I shall be sure ye are hanged for such blaspheme!"_

"America!" Canada cried out, flushing and trying not to laugh.

_"Now, watch as I fluff my wig to show just how proper I am. Everyone must bow before this wig, because this wig makes me above thee and soon the entire world will know the power my fluffy wig."_

"Mon dieu, America!"

"You're real entertainment, America," George chuckles, taking back his wig and spectacles.

"Thanks, man, those things were killing me, after a while," America said laughably.

"Stop being a dramaking. His vision isn't _that_ bad," Canada responded. "He wouldn't be our commander in chief, if he had really bad vision."

"Perhaps," George said, sighing slightly. "I feel it is my duty to serve as you boy's commander. Though, I do not believe I deserve this."

"Why not?" America asked, surprised.

"You deserve a strong leader that will keep you boys together and make this nation strong. I am, but a mere tobacco farmer with poor vision and a prideful and arrogant personality. I will accept this duty from the votes of my fellow comrades, but only under that condition. If not, I could never accept such a high position. I don't know how I can make you both strong and train these men to be strong and valiant men."

"But, that's why I trust you. I know that you don't care about power or what you find justice in your eyes. The only thing you care about are these colonies and its people. I couldn't find a better Commander."

George chuckles a bit, then hugged America, saying, "I thank you. I will take any position, if the people say for me to. I don't believe I deserve it, but that is not to say I will not take the responsibility the Lord has set upon me."


	9. Thomas Paine

**(groan) This is the THIRD time I'm writing this entire chapter. Seriously, I lost this chapter while I was having surgery, then again when I accidentally pasted my fic in the wrong tab. This is beyond frustrating. I am going to get this done if it's the last thing I do. Why do these things happen to me? **

**I also have a new beta reader. Thank you Asian-Dreamer for beta reading this. Review please!**

Arthur was found walking through the pavement of Philadelphia. After everything that has happened, he was desperately worried about America and Canada. He hadn't seen them in many months and despite the letters he got from them, everything seemed to be coming apart. He couldn't walk down the streets without being given glares from the colonists, being why he no longer was wearing his usual red coat like his boss ordered him to constantly. In this case, he needed to look like everyone else. At least the colonies outside of Massachusetts, Connecticut and Pennsylvania were still honorable toward British regulars and soldiers.

Finally tired after searching, he decided to relax at a nearby tavern, perhaps get a place to sleep. Just as he was stepping into one of the taverns, he heard a ruckus inside. It seemed like there was a bar fight of some sort, so he turned around to walk way and not get involved. Just then, as soon as Arthur turned around, he heard the doors burst open, which made him jump.

"I refuse to take drinks from arrogant men who don't listen anyways! Good bloody day!" A man shouted with quite the temper before slamming the door. As soon as he was out of the tavern, he looked up, his and Arthur's eyes meeting.

"Thomas... by god, what did you do this time?" England asked with slightly widened, but not surprised eyes.

"I was just speaking my mind and that bartender got angry. Says I was _disturbing the peace_," Thomas replied, showing eyes filled with fire.

"Judging by your record, I'm not surprised. You must be careful with that temper of yours."

"I could say the same to you. Then again, it's your fault I have it," Thomas replied plainly with that dry humor as Arthur chuckled.

"Point taken. It's good to see you," Arthur replied, shaking Thomas' hand. "Have you seen my boys?"

"No, but I am here on an important business with Benjamin Franklin. I'm sure he would know where at least one of them are. Want to take a walk with me...? unless you're tired," Thomas asked, noticing how tired Arthur looked.

"I'll manage, thank you. Please take me to Mr. Franklin," Arthur asked as Thomas nodded.

Arthur began walking along with his friend, remembering the day they first met. At the time, Thomas was working as an Excise Officer and had written _The Case of the Officers of Excise_, a 21 page article that was defending Excise Officers getting higher pay. Of course, Thomas was fired after that article, but it was that article that sparked their friendship. Arthur loved the article and the both of them expressed their opinions on many different topics.

Of course, Thomas eventually moved to Philadelphia by Benjamin Franklin's suggestion and Arthur had not seen him since. There were too many conflicts Arthur had been dealing with with the colonists. Arthur had never expected to see Thomas again and it was very unfortunate to see him during this time.

"So, what kind of trouble have you been getting into, since leaving England?" Arthur asked.

"I've been working for The Pennsylvania Magazine, getting my career in journalism starting," Thomas replied.

"And?"

Thomas rolled his eyes, getting out a magazine article, and showing it to Arthur. He took it into his hands and got out his spectacles. Arthur read the article, then sighed.

"_Of course._ You never change. Just so you know, the slave trade has been bothering the boys too," Arthur said, taking off his spectacles, then placing them in his coat pocket. "Is that what that ruckus was all about in there?"

"Not really. It's actually about what I'm about to publish in my pamphlet called _Common Sense_," Thomas replied.

"_Common Sense_?"

"I've created a rough draft of it and intend to have Benjamin Franklin look over it tomorrow morning. I will let you be the first to read it, if you will not be offended."

"Why would I be offended even more than you already have for the past three years?" Arthur asked with furrowed eyebrows.

"Because of how anxious you are in seeing your brothers."

The two stopped dead in their tracks as Arthur looked up at Thomas with stubborn green eyes. He could see that same strong stubbornness in Thomas' eyes as well. Arthur could only turn away and sigh. He rubbed his thick eyebrows, then let out his hand.

"I won't make any promises when it comes to my boys. I, at least, deserve to see it before they do," Arthur said with high demand before Thomas gave Arthur the rough draft of his article.

Arthur placed back on his spectacles and read the rough draft. His eyebrows furrowed deeply as he read. In the middle of reading, his eyebrows began slowly unknitting. Arthur was a lot of things, stubborn, sour, selfish and arguably a tyrant, but he also was logical and willing to listen to those that was willing to talk, especially his citizens. England could never refuse to listen to Thomas, even if it was as painful as the sound of his last name.

After reading the pamphlet, Arthur gave it back to Thomas with great sorrow in his eyes.

"My government's fatal flaw is defined within the confines of my government, but there is so much of your anger into your pamphlet that I'm almost certain that you were drunk while writing this. Furthermore, your grammar is atrocious and while I can agree that my monarchy is a flawed government, even _lightly_ monarchy, you must tell me why having to trust Parliament to check my own boss is a flaw in itself. You're not going to accomplish anything other than piss off my parliament and maybe my brothers. You can try using the Bible as your defining argument, since everyone is Christian. I would also suggest that you look for why parliament should be trusted more than my king and why my government is _corrupt_. Look up William the Conqueror. I want to read this and question my beliefs, not read it and feel like I'm wasting my time reading a meaningless rant," England replied with critical eyes.

"It's not just a meaningless rant! There are people that are suffering in these colonies and do you actually believe a small country like yourself can rule over 15 colonies and one the size of three other countries!?"

"I'm just being truthful," England replied, sighing. He then showed sorrowful eyes. "I don't know what I'm going to do about this war. I'm trying to talk my boss into stopping the war, but he's so gung hard on this that it leaves me helpless. I don't want to watch America end up like Scotland, who now hates my guts."

"You can't expect yourself to rule as a small island over a large land of about 15 colonies and one almost the size of two or three France's, even if most of it is for Indians," Thomas replied with furrowed eyebrows.

"I have done that for longer than you've lived on this planet and for the record, my territories in the Americas are far smaller compared to that bloody frog and Spaniard own. If your only argument is that I can't raise my own colonies, because my landmass is small, then your argument is weak. You must try to convince me what it is about my government that is so flawed that my colonies have fight for independence and furthermore why you think they're capable of becoming a country strong enough to defend itself against Spain and France. I don't see you mentioning that in your pamphlet. All I see is a ranting mess with little logic or reason. If I see this drivel again, I better be seeing that passion with a point and not just meaningless passion."

Thomas took a deep breath, then looked over his pamphlet. He hated to admit it, but perhaps England was right about it looking like a meaningless rant. Part of Thomas' shtick was his passion, but without meaning, he wasn't going to get any supporters. He needed to give more reasons and look into the heart of the corrupted government of England. He decided to write down on the side of the pamphlet to research William the Conqueror. Perhaps there was something that England was trying to drive home.

"I'll keep your suggestions in mind," Thomas said after calming down before arriving at the Pennsylvania Gazette. "We're here." He then knocked on the door.

Benjamin Franklin answered, then said, "ah, hello Arthur, Thomas."

"Hello," Arthur replied with a smile. "I'm here to look for my two boys."

"Come in," Benjamin said as Arthur and Thomas entered inside. From there, Thomas began talking with Benjamin about his pamphlet.

As soon as Benjamin closed the door, Alfred, then Matthew appeared from the back door. Arthur ran to the boys and hugged them.

_"Thank the heavens,"_ Arthur almost whispered, smiling as he kissed Alfred's and Matthew's head. He then parted from the boys and sighed in relief. "Are you both alright?"

"We're good, eh," Canada replied.

"It's alright," America shrugged. England could tell something was bothering him.

"Something you want to talk to me? How about you both tell me what's been going on over dinner, yes?" England advised.

"If you don't mind me asking, how about you three come over to my place?" Benjamin advised. "I also have room, if you three want to stay over."

"Are you sure? I don't want to be a bother," England replied.

"You won't be. I promise," Benjamin replied with his smile as England, America and Canada shared smiles.


	10. What Freedom Means

**Now, we finally get to see the ACE family together. This is going to involve less history and more personal. I want it to focus on the relationship the three have together. It will involve bits of history, but only small portions of it. Review please!**

England, Canada and America followed Benjamin to his house, where food was being prepared by George. George was Benjamin's longtime slave.

Benjamin Franklin used to support slavery not too long ago. In fact, he once believed that negros could not be educated as well as European white children, until he went to a school for free Negro children. Even then, he didn't began turning against slavery for many years later, until VERY recently. Before the death of his wife, Benjamin wrote in his Will that all of his slaves were to be freed, once he passed away. How the British were treating the American colonists made Benjamin have second thoughts on his opinion on slavery in general.

"Man, this is good. Thanks Gorge," America thanks, grinning.

"You really gotta stop with the nicknames," Canada muttered under his breath.

"Hey, he's cool with it," America replied. "Besides, he's practically family here."

George laughed, replying, "thank you. It's a pleasure."

America grinned as England showed a welcoming smile, eating his food. He then asked, "so, how have you boys been? I know things must be hard for the both of you."

"It's going," Canada replied, shrugging.

_"What he said,"_ America replied in a quiet voice.

"Is there something you want to talk about? … I can understand if... you know, consider _separation_," England replied with a strained voice.

"It's not that. It's the opposite. I don't want to consider that, until after we talk it out with Georgie first. The problem is that some of my delegates don't want that or want me to kiss his a- feet," America replied, deciding quickly to not curse in front of Benjamin, since he was very uncomfortable with that. "I don't want to stoop to being treated like a... um..." At that moment, Benjamin seemed to be deep in thought about something, giving George a quick glance.

"I understand, America. Though, I hardly consider wasting boxes of good tea or starting a war to be the answer," England replied critically.

"First off, that was only in Boston and it's because of how lousy their trading system is there. The rest of the tea that was burned or dumped was from black market sales, because it was shipped back. Second, about what happened at Concord, it was a total accident! I was scared shitless and your Regulars circling around an army full of farmers and young boys wasn't helping either!" America argued as Benjamin cleared his throat. "Sorry."

"I know. I know. You keep saying that in your letters, but you really don't _think_. That gunshot cost you a bloody war, America. I keep warning you to think before you do and you clearly weren't thinking. If you don't fix this soon, lord knows what my boss will do. America, I'm trying to place you in his lord's good graces and the more you fight, the more unmerciful he will get."

"Yes, because your regulars shooting a group of men that were obviously not soldiers and out of offense was obviously _thinking_ on their part," America muttered sarcastically as England gave him a glare, about to say something before America continued. "I know! I know! You weren't there to stop it, but that's not the issue. Do you think I don't know that? It's your _king's_ fault! He's never taken me seriously! NEVER! Even during the French and Indian War, he saw me as nothing more than just your little cattle you're milking from. I don't want to be your cattle, England! I want to be part of the Empire, just like you are with your three oldest."

"You are part of the British Empire. You always have, you and Canada."

"Don't give me that! We're like your cattle. We provide you milk that feed you day in and day out. Sure, I have my own government and my own rules, but then when your lord decides he wants his milk of the day, I have to make two batches of it and hardly leave any for myself. How fair is that? It's always been like that, even when I was a kid! The only difference was that the rules couldn't be enforced as much, due to distance and war."

"It's... not that bad," Canada muttered fearfully. America rolled his eyes at him.

"What do you expect me to do, America? As far as my boss is concerned, you don't have it half as bad in paying taxes as you do in Great Britain," England said.

"It's not about the taxes, England. It's about being a part of the British Empire, and Canada and I are left on the wayside. But, what do you expect? We're your _colonies_, not your United Kingdom of Great Britain. I wasn't even involved in two of your civil wars."

"America, you were still too young to fight and you had Canada and your land to protect from that French Bastard."

"That's not the point. The point is that Canada and I are not worth anything to your king, except to make sure we feed ya. That's all he cares about. He's no different than King Charles, only he can't touch ya. He knows he can't touch ya, so Canada and I are basically your scapegoats."

"America, stop this right now! My lord is NOTHING like King Charles. You have no idea what you're talking about," England said with darkened eyes.

"Why? Because he hasn't placed any new scars on you or me yet, since he obviously can't touch you?" America asked offhandedly as Canada looked at him confused and England's eyes widened. "What? You think I didn't notice? I'm not stupid, England. I know what that man did to you and I know you're trying to protect Canada and I from having the same thing happen to us." America sighed quietly. "That's why we're only colonies, right? You don't want your brothers or kings hurting us?"

"A-America..." England replied, sighing as he placed his hand on his forehead. "It's a bit more complicated than that."

"England, I ask for one thing and that thing is respect. I don't want to be treated like cattle. If your king can't treat me that way, then what's the point in me becoming a part of this empire? I'd rather be considered a traitor and locked up in the Tower of London than be a slave to your king," America said with boldness in his voice.

"America," Canada said hesitantly as England put his hand up.

"I know what you're asking for and I will stand by what I said. It's more complicated than that. Do you have any idea how long any of us have fought for that kind of respect from our lords? I almost died to gain the respect and I still don't have as much as I wish. What makes you think you can get any kind of respect, if even _I_ am not allowed to have it?" England questioned as America stared at him dumbfoundedly. "Oh? You thought I had won the respect from my lord, didn't you? Well, Newsflash, I don't. Even Parliament is refusing to pay any attention to my brothers and I at the moment. If they did, I'd have you show up in every meeting about every Acts placed on you. Each of them are chosen by the king and hardly represent the people anymore. Then, there is you and Canada. If I choose to fight for my utmost rights, then I will be neglecting the both of you like I did during the Great Rebellion. If I choose to protect the both of you, then I have to sacrifice my chances of gaining those rights. If I don't gain those rights..."

_"We won't gain them either,"_ America muttered.

"But didn't you and your brothers change the government and the way they did things, so the king wouldn't have so much power?" Canada asked.

"They did under the rule of other rulers like William and Mary of Orange. It isn't as if they no longer have any power or even limited power to some degree. The king is still my boss and will be until one of his children takes the throne. As far as I'm concerned, my people have as just as much of a voice as they did before the Magna Carte. I can't ask for anymore than what I have. If I do, you both, India and my brothers will pay the price. I'm sorry, but I just can't have it. It's the same with all of Europe," England said sadly with a bitter smile. America began understanding why England was never there for him as a child and regretted ever being so selfish as to want England for himself so badly.

"So, you don't like Georgie as king?" America asked.

"It's not that I don't like him. Good god, I practically watched him grow up from the day he was born. I love him like my own child at best. He's not a bad boss either. He's very good in more ways than one and I pay him with utmost respect. Though, while he maybe a good king for my brothers and I, I see how he sees us and our people. He's never paid any attention to either of you when it comes to what you both want. He pays attention to my brothers and I, but only out of obligation. It is also because he doesn't know either of you. It isn't like he has time to pay you both visits and neither of you are children anymore, so your innocence cannot capture his attention to you like for King James. He only knows you from the Seven Year War and no more or less. He is human, America. It is impossible for him to see you as anymore than a step child of the empire or a _slave_ as you call it, not that you are one to talk when it comes to treating your people as slaves. If there was any way I can change that, I would, but I cannot change distance and it maybe the only way to protect you from kings that are worse than him," England replied, sighing sadly. "Believe me, it's hard to free those you want to protect when slavery is the only means of protection."

"He is right, America. We do have to give him a break," Canada agreed. "We can't expect him to treat us like family, if he doesn't know us as such. Even if England was to make us independent, what's to protect us from other countries from taking us that would treat us worse? France and Spain are kind, but their bosses are way worse."

"So, that's his reasoning for not listening to us? Because he doesn't _know us enough_ to give us the respect we deserve?" America questioned, glaring at his brothers with darkened eyes. "Because he doesn't believe we can't _protect our own_?"

"Might I repeat what you said at the beginning of this conversation? You both are colonies just like India. I would make you a part of Great Britain, but the distance is far too great and I fear my boss may not agree with it. He already has my three other brothers to deal with. Even if you did become a part of the empire, it would take a great deal of time for my boss to see you as part of the empire. Respect doesn't come overnight and it certainly isn't going to come like you expect it to. If you just wait and be patient, I'm sure we can work something out for the both of you," England replied.

"If you are right, then this war isn't going to stop overnight either. I'm not fighting this war for separation. I'd rather be independent in good graces. I'm fighting it for my rights, for what this land was founded for. It's a land where everyone can have the opportunity to work for a living and be who they want to be, to worship however they want. This was the dream for you, King James and Queen Elizabeth. I have alot of things to fix, including the slave trade, but I'm starting with the people that live here. If I have to fight to keep those rights that you raised me to stand for, I will fight for it whether it would be with a musket, a rifle or a shovel."

England sighed sadly, replying, "I was afraid you would say that." He perked his head up. "America, I don't want to fight you. You say you don't want separation, but if we keep fighting, that is going to be on your mind. I know you too much. I'm begging you, don't continue this! I... I'll see to it that my lord tries to compromise with you." He held America by the shoulders with pleading and worried eyes.

England knew from Thomas that separation was inevitable. America would favor it and see it as the only solution. He needed to hang onto America as much as he could to not lose him. King George maybe cocky, but England wasn't. He knew America. He knew what this boy was capable of and he was more than just a farmboy of a country. Every country started as a farmboy, only to become a mighty empire. England could see an empire in America and it was terrifying.

"Then, give this to his majesty," America said, getting out his petition and setting it on the table across from England, making sure to set it away from the food. "It's the Olive Branch Petition. John Dickinson wrote this, so you can be assure that it won't offend his lordship. If he refuses to listen, then fighting is inevitable. I will keep fighting for my rights, until they are given."

"America... I don't like this either, but I don't want to keep fighting," Canada replied.

"Do what you want, Canada. I'm not forcing you to fight," America said as Canada gazed his eyes away, looking conflicted.

Meanwhile, a single smile appeared upon George's lips.


	11. The King's Decree

**And here is the next chapter. We get to meet King George III. I've been keeping you guys waiting and now we get to finally be introduced to our antagonist of the story... well, one of them. I hope you like. Review please!**

England returned to his ship and traveled back home. He kept the letter from America and Canada in his coat pocket to keep it safe. He needed this trip to calm and prepare himself to report to his boss. He knew and understood why America felt the way he did. Canada was being way too submissive and England knew that was his main weakness. He only hoped that it wouldn't become his downfall.

It took long months at sea before England finally made it back to London. He walked along the plank to land, being greeted by guards and his brothers. Straightening his coat, he walked alongside his brothers on his way to the Kew Palace where the royals lived. The brothers knew from the look on England's face, this meant business. They stayed with him until they were in front of the crimson palace.

Watching England enter inside the building, greeted by servants, Scotland said, "Why diz this reek bad bark?"

As soon as England entered inside the house, he was greeted by Queen Charlotte, who stood very elegantly, though her belly was large from pregnancy. It seemed that her and her husband were breeding like rabbits. Charlotte already gave birth to ten other children, all of them still young or in their infancy. The rest of the children were probably still being cared for at the moment by their nurses.

"It's good to see you home, England," Charlotte greeted.

"Good to see you too. I haven't heard the good News," England replied, showing a smile, while eying the large belly.

"Ah, yes. We discovered this not long after you left. The other children miss you too. I expect you will return to your duties?"

"Yes and no. I will watch after the children, but I need to meet with your husband, if he isn't too busy," England replied. Part of his duty as a country was to help raise the future kings and queens. It used to only be reserved for the males, but then it backfired with Queen Mary I, then England's scandalous romance with Queen Elizabeth, which he was too embarrassed to mention.

"Oh, of course! My husband was expecting you when you returned. Shall I call for him?"

"No need, Charlotte," A calm voice responded from the stairwell.

England calmly walked passed the queen, and made his way to meet King George III. He was tall and elegant in his royal clothing. He smiled, happy for England's return, but then saw the facial expression, and the smile turned into a frown. He signaled with his hand for England to follow him upstairs. England nodded, then followed his boss up the stairs.

King George III walked to his room, then England began making tea. He arrived with a tray, two tea cups, creamer, sugar and a tea pot. He poured the tea for both of them before adding cream and sugar to his. George calmly did the same, looking as if he was mentally preparing himself.

"Understand that I will not take any of your colonies' rebellion lightly," King George said.

"With all due respect, America and Canada only act out of defense and it is only Boston that has shown most signs of rebellion. The rest are strongly loyal to the crown," England replied.

"Oh?" King George replied, seemingly surprised. His lips were pressed together, his eyebrows knitting together. "Parliament seems to think differently."

"Parliament hasn't traveled across the ocean and seen how the colonists act with their own eyes. They also have not talked to the colonies in person and listened to them."

King George nodded, then replied, "but, you have and from what I saw downstairs, you don't seem like you bring good News."

"I never expected to bring good News, being we are at war. With that said, Canada and America favor compromise. They have put together a letter, signed by their congress, in hopes that-" England replied as his boss rose two eyebrows.

"Away with it."

"I beg your pardon?"

"I refuse to read a petition signed by a man, who claims that war is inevitable," King George III claimed. Of course, he was talking about John Adams, who clearly has signed the petition.

"Your majesty, I beg your pardon, but the letter you read that was printed in London's Newspaper was sent as a private letter. It was stolen from a scoundrel, and illegally printed in England's newspaper. I had experienced this horrific action, while I was in Massachusetts after the war on Breed's Hill. I hardly call that a fair reason. You also can't judge the statements from one man. This was signed by all of congress and written by John Dickinson, who is utmost loyal to you and favors compromise. You know this."

"Yes, but due to various disorderly acts committed in disturbance of the public peace, the obstruction of lawful commerce, and the oppression of our loyal subjects, I see no other option. Your colonies are in open and avoid rebellion. They levy war against us!"

"Yes, but in self defense. The army in Concord was not even of trained soldiers, but untrained farmers, slaves and young boys. Your majesty, please reconsider your decision. If you don't, you will regret it and I can't lose my boys. You have children of your own. What if you heard of them making war against your house, because they claim that those under your house have been abusing them? If there is a chance they are willing to compromise, would you take it?"

"..."

King George III crossed his arms, glaring at the window of his room. England continued, "Boss, you were not there. You did not walk on American soil and saw what I have seen. Parliament has not walked along the sidewalk of Boston and traveled to Philadelphia on foot. I have seen how those rebels are being treated. While I agree that Boston is being unreasonable, should the rest of the colonies suffer who have been forever loyal to you, because of one rebellious city? Will you punish America, because of Boston, even when he defended our regulars during the massacre? Should we treat him with hostility for defending his people of farmers, young boys and slaves from trained regulars that should know how to treat them without hostility?" He began walking from the room. "I will give you a week to read that petition. If you don't, my colonies' respect won't be the only thing you'll lose."

The king didn't watch England leave the room, though did sigh deeply after he left. He gazed at the petition, then humphed. He refused to read anything signed by those men that opposed him. Not only did they oppose him, but resisted arrest. As far as King George III was concerned, those men performed treason. That was an act he couldn't let go unpunished. It was unacceptable.

"Father," King George III heard a voice from a small girl at the age of 6 or 7.

"Is something wrong, Sophia?" King George III asked softly.

"I just wanted to say I love you."

The king chuckled, picking the small girl in his arms before replying, "I love you too."

England was watching this scene from the hallway. His eyes slowly grew sorrowful. This king was once just a kind and shy boy with beaming eyes just like the girl he was carrying. They all started like that. Somewhere along the way, something changed in those eyes. Perhaps it was from being crowned at such a young age. Despite how arrogant, selfish and stubborn this king was, he was also inexperienced at the start. He made too many mistakes that had turned him this way.

England smiled bitterly as he began remembering his days as a king when his mother was the country. Despite what legends have written him as a legendary hero, in reality, he was no different than the king in front of him. He was selfish, arrogant and stubborn. He ruled with force to protect those he loved. He knew King George III was using force as an act of love to protect those he loves, to protect his country. That was why King George III was nothing like King Charles I. King Charles I never loved England or his brothers.

_"Perhaps war is inevitable, if he will act this way to keep my boys with me and away from Spain and France,"_ England whispered in a hoarse voice as tears rolled down his cheeks.


End file.
